Final Fantasy: Point of Intersection FINAL CUT
by Axwind
Summary: A young woman discovers her destiny as a lone gunman battles the demons of his past. Their lives and hearts meet amidst the awakening of a dark goddess, plunging SeeD and AVALANCHE into a battle not for the life of the Planet, but for its very soul...
1. Voices in the Dark

**FINAL FANTASY: POINT OF INTERSECTION  
_FINAL CUT_**

_She sleeps, flesh and soul severed and bound,  
Her children banished into the void.  
She waits in the darkness, her prison of stone,  
Buried and forgotten._

_The Queen of Serpents once more will feed,  
Lady Death will claim her tithe.  
The Black Viper once more will strike.  
Lady Death will claim her tithe._

_

* * *

_

**  
Prologue  
Voices in the Dark**

_  
A vast, endless cavern lay swallowed in gloom, lit only by a faint bluish glow that seemed to accentuate the darkness rather than diminish it. Silence hung in the dank, musty air, the air of another world, a world immeasurably different from her own and yet somehow akin to it as well, though she could not say how or why. The chamber she saw was not empty, however. It was filled with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of dark, menacing forms. Massive, winged beasts of shadow no more solid than she herself was. Yet the dread, paralyzing terror slowly building within her as she watched the dark assembly was all too real._

_Demons. Wraithlike beings of immense power and evil, cloaked in the deepest of shadows, their hooded faces twisted and tortured and yet unmistakably, terrifyingly human. Born of the night, they were winged hunters of the most deadly kind, and their strength lay not in their talons but in the darkness they served. Yet they were bound, trapped within a prison even they could not escape. Banished in ages past when they had still borne some semblance of humanity, before the shadows had made them their own. Exiled forever by their own kin, the dark ones had sworn revenge against those who had made them outcasts._

_A stone sarcophagus, engraved on all sides with intricate carvings, a smooth, concave depression in its center. Unholy life pulsed within, sealed away for all time. Or so those who had done so had thought. The coffin hovered a meter above the ground in the midst of the fiendish assembly, the hooded, winged horrors keeping a reverent distance as they gazed upon it with shimmering green eyes. And from it, a voice…_

—You have found me.—

_A hollow, piercing whisper that sent shivers coursing down her spine and caused her to shake uncontrollably even as she slept. Cunning, ancient, and evil, it waited for her in the depths. Cold, blackened fingers wrapped themselves around her heart, icy tendrils that froze her blood with the chill of the grave, and for a moment she gazed into a pair of glittering, oddly reptilian amber eyes, their pupils inky black slits of darkness._

—You know what I seek, though you do not know you know. The key to our freedom, our revenge.—

_The voice softened then and became almost gentle, and she felt herself slipping at last into merciful dreamlessness. The hellish visions that filled her nightmare faded silently back into the blackness from which they had come, yet the dread fear she felt lingered on, twisting her stomach into knots. She would have no rest tonight. Yet before the nightmare fell away entirely, she heard that chill voice once more. A woman's voice._

—Come, child of the ancient blood. You will find me again.—

----------

Iseldra sat upon the icy ridge, gazing up into a moonless sky not yet tinged with the first hints of dawn. A chill wind swept around her, idly tossing her thick curls of rich blue hair around her face, yet she did not move. As an ice maiden, she thrived in such extreme climates. The high places of the mountains held no fear for her. Ever since she had left the glacier, they had been her home, her sanctuary.

From the shadows between a pair of rocky overhangs emerged a woman, her sinuous frame robed and cowled all in black. Strands of dark hair spilled down her shoulders from within the depths of her hood like threads of fine silk. Iseldra could see nothing of the visitor's face, cast in shadow as it was, save her nose and mouth. From her dark red lips emerged a voice soft and measured, a husky whisper emphasizing every word.

"It is time…"

Iseldra narrowed her blood-hued eyes. "How can I be sure you'll keep your word?"

"I have given you no word to keep, ice maiden. You must trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," Iseldra replied. She rose to her feet, snow crunching beneath her bare toes. "Why don't you get this thing yourself if you want it so badly?"

The robed woman sneered. "You think I could not if I so desired? It would have been in my possession long before now, I can assure you of that. In any case, I cannot go to the depths where it lies. Too many protections still guard it."

"How am I supposed to get it, then? The crater still teems with monsters."

"You will not need to find it yourself, Iseldra. Others will do that for you. The ones I told you of. Take the girl, and they will do as you ask. They care for her too much to risk her safety."

"And then?" Iseldra prodded.

"Kill them."

"They're too powerful. I wouldn't stand any chance against them in a fight."

"Not now, perhaps, but you will. I shall see to that."

Placing her hands upon Iseldra's temples, the strange woman murmured to herself in a strange, spidery tongue, words Iseldra did not understand, and slid her fingers in a slow, interminable arc down Iseldra's cheeks, the feathery touch of those slender hands almost a caress, until they cupped her chin and tilted her face upward. The robed woman leaned close, so close that for a moment Iseldra thought the other woman would kiss her.

Instead, she breathed upon her. Great looping tendrils of dark vapor escaped the woman's lips and dove into Iseldra's mouth. She gasped as a blast of cold so frigid it touched even her stung the inside of her throat and lungs. Daggers of pain arose with each breath. Yet there was also power, a fire in her blood that begged for release.

"Very well," she agreed. "It'll be done."

The robed woman bent even closer, her lips almost brushing Iseldra's ear, her whispered voice like steel. "Make certain of it, for She who gives life has also the power to take it away. Remember that."

Straightening, she faded once again into the shadows, but as she disappeared from sight, she looked back at Iseldra, and in that moment she could just see two faint pinpricks of amber within the woman's hood. They drove straight into her skull, a penetrating gaze that froze Iseldra where she stood.

"Do not fail me, ice maiden. I will be watching."

----------

Edea paced the largely empty halls of the Garden, her dark satin gown swishing by her ankles. Unease gnawed at her mind, an unsettling feeling that something was out of place, or soon would be. Yet she could pinpoint no source. The lighting, dimmed to after-hours levels, cast long shadows against the curving walls, turning the familiar sights of her home into a landscape both foreign and vaguely frightening.

A stark white glow entered her vision, and Edea noted the infirmary, nowadays open to any even at this late hour. She slowed and made her way more quietly down the corridor. Dr. Kadawaki would give her a firm talking-to, headmistress or not, if she spotted Edea walking the halls this time of night in her condition.

Her lips parting in a fond smile, Edea ran her fingers over her distended abdomen. She had never expected to have a child of her own, especially at this age. Yet here she was, seven months pregnant, Sariese resting comfortably in her womb. Of course Edea had known it was a girl, even before Dr. Kadawaki had confirmed it. A sorceress rarely gave birth to a boy.

Edea paused, the warm feelings evaporating, and frowned. Her eyes searched the dark corners for a fear she could not name. She had left the infirmary behind and now had only the wan yellow glow of the half-lit overheads to hold back the gloom. One by one, they shut off, plunging the halls bit by bit into blackness. Panic seized Edea's mind, and she hurried forward as best she could, desperately trying to outrun the fading lights.

But the darkness was gaining. Along with whatever waited within it. Was she imagining things? Somehow she didn't think so. Try as she might, Edea couldn't outrace the shadows. Soon they overcame her, and she could see nothing. Edea held her hand up in front of her face, but she might as well have been blind for all the good it did. She shivered, suddenly cold, although the Garden's temperature regulators should have kept the air at comfortably warm level.

Then she heard the laughter.

Soft, sensuous, and cruel. A woman's laughter. It echoed in the darkness of the empty halls, a faint whisper that nevertheless filled the air with its presence. Strangely, Edea felt she almost knew that voice. Not Ultimecia, not Adel. Someone worse, her gut told her. Far worse. But not a sorceress, either.

The laughter ceased, and the lights flickered back to uncertain life one after another. Edea sighed. Had she imagined the whole thing? She could only hope so. The alternative was too terrible to imagine. Yet as she made her way back to her quarters, back to the warm bed she shared with Cid, a final whisper froze her in her tracks.

_I see you…_

----------

Halfway across the world, Dr. Viktor Odine sat fussing in his vast laboratory in Esthar, going over sheets of scrawled footnotes, equations, and other materials while the computer's translation matrix sped through the numerous glyphs and pictographs adorning the artifacts. So far, the Centra excavations on the southern continent had produced a bountiful crop of fascinating objects, but the true prize had yet to be discovered.

A sudden beeping on his desk indicated an incoming transmission. From the extremely complex encryption codes protecting the signal, Odine knew it could be only one person. A shiver ran down his spine as he straightened his wide, fanlike collar and smoothed the front of his garishly colored tunic. She wanted an update on the excavation, no doubt. Odine punched the accept key, doublechecking the line's security. If that idiot Loire found out what he was up to, Odine was as good as dead.

"Yes, my lady. Vat is it?" he asked.

The flickering, translucent image of a woman, hooded and cloaked all in black, appeared above the desk. Though only a half-meter tall hologram, she exuded an unmistakable aura of power and thinly veiled menace, like a coiled snake. Odine could see little beneath the hood aside from a pair of glistening ruby lips and strands of black, silken hair. Nevertheless, he reached up to loosen his collar a little, his skin damp with sudden sweat. Somehow he was grateful he couldn't see her eyes.

The woman folded her arms in expectation. "What is your progress?"

"Ve have located nine of ze tombs, my lady. Only three remain, but zey will not be hidden for long."

"Good. Inform me when they have been found. We need _all_ of the fragments to break the seal."

"And if others begin to suspect somezing is amiss?" Odine ventured. "Loire vants to be kept updated on zis project, zough I have not told him of its true purpose."

"Do nothing to arouse suspicion. I will tell you when to act."

Odine bowed. "As you vish, my lady."

After the hologram had faded into nothingness, Odine sat back in his chair, his paperwork forgotten. He picked up from his desk a glittering shard of polished crystal with a length of fine silver chain hanging from one end. Such a little thing, really, but possessed of enormous power. Odine could have spent a lifetime studying it. Yet in the end it was merely a tool, a small piece in a much larger puzzle, one that would be Laguna Loire's undoing.

With the Lady's help, Odine would soon be rid of that imbecile. It was Loire that had forced him to submerge the Lunatic Pandora, a wondrous Centra vessel of enormous power and a treasure trove of knowledge. And then there was Ellone. The girl's brainwaves were so fascinating in their unique design, and yet Odine had never gotten the opportunity to complete his research. Loire had taken the little brat away before Odine could even get to the next stage of experimentation. He had learned much about her power already, but now that she was grown, it would introduce a whole new set of variables.

Odine had spent the last twenty years under Laguna Loire's insufferably watchful eye, every scientific endeavor he undertook closely monitored. How he _hated_ that man! But now, after all that time, he would finally be free of him. Odine smiled as he thought of how Loire's face was going look just before the Lady destroyed him. But first he would be made to watch as his precious daughter was forced into an isolation chamber for observation. Although potentially harmful to the girl, the testing and experiments would provide incredible amounts of data.

And Odine would make sure Laguna Loire was witness to it all.


	2. Premonitions

**Part 1  
Storm Front**

**----------------------------------------- **

**Chapter 1  
Premonitions**

It had just been a dream. Hadn't it?

Ellone splashed a cupped handful of cold water over her face, the chill shock driving the last vestiges of sleep away as she slid her hands over her eyes and through her dark hair. Rivulets of icy fluid flowed down her skin in glistening trails that left prickled gooseflesh in their wake. Water trickled down the back of her neck between her shoulder blades and behind her ears, jolting her to instant alertness with a start.

She took the paper cup next to the faucet, filled it, and drained it in one long swallow. Bending over the sink, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe, to slow the frenetic staccato beating of her heart. Ellone stood there shivering, her pale blue nightdress damp with cold sweat. Her nose crinkled at the smell of it. Beads of it coated her skin.

Silence hung in the air, an unpleasant stifling of sound that sent chills careening up Ellone's spine. Blood pounding in her ears, she struggled to compose herself, to still her trembling body. Her breath came in swift, shallow gasps in the darkness. Slowly lifting her head, Ellone opened her eyes and gazed into the mirror hanging above the sink.

Only her reflection wasn't there.

What she saw was madness. Within the frame of the mirror lay only blackness, a shadow that no light could penetrate. Out of it shot a blackened, burnt hand smelling of ash and rotting flesh. A terrified shriek ripped itself out of Ellone's lips as she staggered backwards and banged the back of her head against the metal towel rod in the wall behind her. Stars exploded in her vision, and she collapsed onto the tile floor in a crumpled heap, throwing her arms in front of her face to blot out that hellish claw.

When she dared to look up again, it was gone. The mirror was only polished glass, and in it she saw her haggard, terrified face staring back at her with wide, bloodshot brown eyes, their pupils large in the gloom. Her dark hair, usually so neat and clean, hung in scattered disarray. She brushed a few strands from her eyes with unsteady fingers as she picked herself up off the floor, straightening her disheveled nightdress. Her other hand went to her head, wincing as it touched the place where she'd hit it.

Stumbling back into her bedroom, she flicked on the light, pulled her suitcase from the closet, and tossed it on the bed. Ellone unzipped it and started throwing clothes and shoes and other items inside. She went back into the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for what she would need, and dumped everything in her little makeup bag. With hardly a backward glance, she stuffed it in her suitcase and tugged the zipper closed. Ellone threw on a blouse, skirt, and shoes, straightened her hair, took her luggage and hurried downstairs.

Half an hour later, Ellone was settling into a seat on the next train for Timber, absently sipping a mug of coffee and staring out the window. The sun would be climbing over the grassy hilltops in a few hours, but she hadn't wanted to wait that long. If she had stayed home any longer, she might have gone mad. Only now, sitting by herself in a passenger car nearly empty at this hour, did she allow herself to think about what she had seen, the dark things that haunted her both in her dreams and now in the waking world as well.

Nightmares robbed her of sleep with a peculiar and frightening persistence these days, and always they were the same. How long had it been since she had gotten any real rest? Nearly a month, she supposed. The dreams came almost every night now, and always with the same themes, the same terrifying imagery. The same horrible, amber eyes, and that terrible hand that was always reaching for her with its withered, skeletal fingers.

Ellone took a long swallow of her coffee and shifted in her seat, trying to stay awake. Outside, the dark shapes of rolling, grassy hills swept past her window beneath an early morning sky still pinpricked with glowing stars. Dawn was still a few hours away. Across the aisle and a few rows behind her snored a bearded, dark-haired man, his thick hands folded over the newspaper lying open on his lap. Ellone envied him, wishing she could sleep as peacefully as he was now. Maybe Dr. Kadowaki could give her some sedatives.

Dawn was just starting to creep over the horizon some three hours later as Ellone blinked her eyes open, rousing herself from the light, fitful doze which was all the rest she had managed to get. The train had to be about halfway to Timber by now, she guessed. The low rumble of the wheels cruising over the track was the only sound aside from the bearded man's snoring. She doubted he'd woken at all the entire time.

Taking her phone from her purse, Ellone flipped it open and dialed Squall's number. After two rings, her younger brother's firm, quiet voice came on the line. "Hello?"

"Squall? It's Ellone. I'm on my way over there. I took the 4 a.m. train from Winhill, so I should be in Timber by eleven."

"We weren't expecting you for another few days, Sis. Anything wrong?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see the motion, "but… well, I'll explain later. I'm sure Selphie won't mind one of her bridesmaids arriving a little early."

"Right. Rinoa and Quistis won't be back from Deling City until the end of the week."

"Oh, that's right," Ellone remembered. "How are the negotiations going?"

Squall sighed. "The Galbadian senate still won't budge. They've been running the show over there since the war, and with the hell that Deling's caused, they don't want another president just yet. Even someone as popular as Caraway."

"I can't say I'm surprised. But I'm sure Rinoa will be able to work something out," Ellone replied. A small smile played across her lips. "Speaking of Rinoa, have you asked her yet?"

"Asked her what?" Squall wondered.

Ellone wasn't about to let him get out of it that easily. "You know what I mean, Squall. Haven't you proposed to her yet? You showed me and Uncle Laguna the ring last month in Esthar, remember?"

"Oh, _that…_ um, I haven't gotten around to it yet, Sis."

"And why not?" she teased. Poking fun at her brother was one of her favorite pastimes. "Everyone knows how crazy you two are about each other. What are you waiting for?"

"Even when she and I are alone, we're not. At least, it feels that way to me. Everybody's waiting for us to take that step, but it's hard when it feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are staring at us all at once."

"I'm sorry," Ellone apologized, the smile fading. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"It's alright. Just under a lot of pressure, that's all. I'd like to take her away somewhere for a few days, maybe that field near Edea's house. Where we could really be alone, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand. But you're the SeeD commander, you can't take a few days' leave?"

"I could, it's just been so busy that I haven't had the chance to do it. Field exams are coming up, and then there's that headache with the Galbadian government. Not to mention the wedding, finding new instructors for the next term, and making sure the monster handlers get the training center restocked. Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch a live malboro?"

Ellone didn't need him to go further. "I see what you mean. Anyway, will you meet me at the station?"

"Yeah. I'll be sure to have some guest quarters prepared for you."

"Thanks. I'd better get going, then. I'm sure you have a lot to do."

"Always. I'll see you when you get here, Sis."

Ellone bid him goodbye and hung up, putting the phone away and gazing out the window as the sun continued its slow climb over the hills. The sky had lightened from deep violet to a host of pale blues and golds as daylight approached. She thought once more of what she had dreamt, of those awful eyes, the slitted yellow orbs of a snake. Watching her. Waiting in the darkness. But for what? Ellone shivered and thrust the image from her mind.

Sipping her morning tea, Edea pondered the stack of reports spread out on her desk. One in particular gave her pause, though there was no outward reason for it to have done so. It was a communiqué from Esthar detailing a series of recent archealogical digs taking place in the rugged mountains of Centra far to the south. Dr. Odine was heading the project, whose goal ostensibly was to recover certain Centra artifacts to learn more about their history, culture, and technology.

Innocent enough, to be sure, and President Loire had approved it himself, although not without a certain amount of oversight from the executive office. Edea knew well enough the trouble the feisty little scientist had caused over the years and understood that Laguna was taking no chances with him. Nor would she, were she in Laguna's place. Everything appeared to be under control, and with Laguna's longtime friends and aides Kiros and Ward personally overseeing the entire operation, there should have been no reason for Edea to worry.

But worry she did.

Why did she feel such a foreboding about this dig? Edea wished she knew. She had said nothing of her strange experience from the previous night, not even to Cid. Her instincts told her that the incident was connected to the dig somehow. What artifacts were the science team looking for? Edea scanned the report again, a dark suspicion rising in her mind. She only hoped she was wrong, that she was merely chasing shadows.

The sealed tombs of a dozen ancient sorceresses, all of Centran descent. The project's main objective was to locate these tombs and excavate them if possible. Little was known of the Centra, but should these ancient burial sites be discovered, they might prove to be a vast treasure trove of knowledge. At least according to Dr. Odine. Edea frowned. Grave robbing was perhaps a more accurate description. She wondered why Laguna had gone along with it.

Hadn't there been an old legend somewhere about something called the Coven, or something like that? Or maybe it was just a stray memory from Edea's time under Ultimecia's influence, she couldn't be sure. But if the tombs did indeed belong to the sisters of that elect group, what would happen should they be disturbed? And what did any of this have to do with—

_(I see you…)_

—her? The one Edea dared not name, even though she had no name yet to give. It slithered just on the edge of her mental grasp, a sinister presence she ought to have seen coming long before but had somehow missed. Or was she just imagining things? Edea paused, halfway between another sip of tea, and wondered.

"Cid, what do you know of this new excavation taking place in Esthar?" she asked, holding up the report.

Her husband crossed the room and glanced over her shoulder at the document. "Not much aside from what's in there, I'm afraid. Odine's keeping a tight lid on this one, though he's requested SeeD assistance from time to time."

"He has?" Edea looked up at Cid, her disquiet growing. "What for?"

"Clearing out each tomb as it's found. Apparently they're quite well guarded. Odine's got teams all over Centra looking for them, from what Laguna's told me. Is something wrong?"

Edea sighed. "I'm not sure. And that is what worries me."

"You mind telling me what's going on?"

Trust Squall to get right to the point, Ellone thought. But then, her brother had never been anything but direct. It was just his way. She sat with him in a little café in Timber, poking at her early lunch but not really having much of an appetite. Her nightmare had seen to that. But if she told Squall, would he think her crazy? Or, as seemed more likely, just dismiss it entirely and tell her not to worry about it?

"I'm not really sure myself," Ellone sighed. "Just… having trouble sleeping, I guess."

Squall folded his arms across his chest. "You sure? Because you've looked better, I can tell you that."

"How _do_ I look?" Ellone wondered.

"Tired. And scared. Even I can see that, Sis. What is it?"

Ellone could see her brother wasn't going to be satisfied until she gave him some sort of explanation. He just sat there in his black pants and a gray T-shirt, his tousled brown hair longer these days than how he'd kept it during the war. It was probably Rinoa's doing, she thought, although it did look nice hanging down past his shoulders the way it did. She had let her own hair grow out a bit as well, though not quite so much. It only just brushed the collar of her sleeveless white blouse.

His scar had never quite healed, still a dark red line across the bridge of his nose, and he gazed at her with those chilly blue-grey eyes of his. Squall hadn't touched his food much, either, but that might have been because he'd been more interested in whatever was going on with her. Ellone might have thought it overprotective had it come from anyone but him.

"I've been having, well… nightmares," she explained. "I don't remember much, but… they keep coming, almost every night now. It's hard to get any sleep anymore. I had a really bad one last night, that's why I left."

"Get some sedatives from Dr. Kadowaki. Knowing her, she'll probably insist on it. And go talk to Matron about the dreams. They're probably nothing, though."

Ellone nodded. She'd been thinking along those same lines herself. "I think I'll do that. I don't want to collapse in the middle of Selphie's wedding, after all."

"No kidding," Squall agreed.

"How's she holding up, by the way?"

"As energetic as always. You know how she is. She spends most of her time in the quad, getting the place ready for the reception. We'll get on our way to Trabia in a day or two so we can get this over with."

Ellone blinked. "You don't like it?"

"I'm happy for her, sure, and for Irvine, but… you know about the transfer, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Squall sighed. "Selphie and Irvine aren't coming back with us after the wedding. They're gonna stay in Trabia Garden to teach the new students there."

"Oh, I see. You'll still be able to see them sometimes, though, won't you?"

"Probably," Squall sighed. "Did you hear about Zell?"

Ellone shook her head. "Not lately. What's he up to these days?"

"He's leaving, too. Next month, after the term ends. He met this girl at the Tri-Garden Festival last year, she's a SeeD at Galbadia Garden. I think her name was Sara or something. Anyway, it's gotten serious enough that he's transferring over there to be with her. Plus, Martine's gonna give him a position as an instructor. Martial arts, of course."

"I think I see what's bothering you," Ellone smiled gently. "Do your friends know you'll miss them?"

Squall frowned. "I guess. But I've been more worried about how I'm going to replace two of my best instructors. The kids all love Selphie, and Irvine's gunnery classes are always packed."

"Well, you really should say something. I'm sure they'd appreciate it."

"Whatever. Actually, I did have someone in mind to fill Selphie's position. You."

"Me?" Ellone asked.

Squall nodded. "If you want to do it, that is."

"Gosh, I… I don't know what to say…" Ellone's cheeks flushed pink. Her, an instructor?

She's spent the last few years living quietly in Winhill, with regular visits to Esthar to visit Uncle Laguna and to Garden to see Squall and the others. Between arranging flowers back home and helping Uncle Laguna sift through the often precarious maze of Estharian politics, Ellone had led a busy life since the war. Yet still she wondered if maybe there wasn't something more she could do with her life, something better.

"It's okay if you don't want to do it," Squall shrugged, "but I just thought I'd ask. Seems like something you'd like."

"I'll think about it, but I won't promise anything. I want to get these nightmares under control first, or I won't be much use to anybody, let alone a classroom full of kids. But… it _would_ be a lot of fun…"

Squall glanced at his watch. "We'd better get going. I've got a briefing with Cid in half an hour, then my afternoon gunblade classes to teach until 18:00. Oh, uh, that's 6:00, sorry. SeeD time's a little different."

"That's alright. I think I'll stop by the quad and catch up with Selphie while you're busy."

"Good idea," Squall agreed. "Your guest quarters are in the east wing whenever you feel like putting your stuff away. Suite 412, near the officers' quarters."

Ellone took her bowl of half-eaten salad and barely nibbled roll and started emptying them in a nearby trash bin along with the remains of Squall's lunch while he settled the bill. As she did so, she let her eyes wander around the small café with its square glass tables and bright baby blue walls and black and white framed photos. People of different sorts chatted and ate and walked in and out and it seemed all very ordinary and unthreatening, yet the hairs on the back of Ellone's neck suddenly stood on end. Something wasn't right, and it didn't take her long to figure out why.

She was being watched.

Discreetly panning the clientele again, Ellone searched for anything unusual, anything that might explain the unease that had suddenly filled her gut. As her eyes passed over the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the café, the cold fear from her nightmare returned, so forcefully she nearly gasped aloud. Standing outside amidst the crowds of passersby was a woman clad in deepest ebony, her black hair hanging down her shoulders almost to her waist. Her deep red lips betrayed no expression, but it was her eyes that froze Ellone in place. Those amber eyes, those _serpent's_ eyes.

No one else seemed to take any notice of the woman or even see her, much to Ellone's disbelief. Terror filled her, sending her heart ramming against her ribcage and turning her blood to ice. A terrible hissing filled her ears, and she looked down, trembling with dread, to see a snake, its body armored in shimmering black scales, coiled around her forearm and staring at her with beady yellow eyes. It was a viper, its curved fangs wide and dripping with venom.

Ellone shrieked and flung her arm out wide, losing her balance and falling onto the white tile floor. A sudden crash split the air, jerking her back to her senses, as the salad bowl flew from her hand and exploded against a nearby wall. There was a sudden, anxious tug on her shoulder, and she fought its grip for a moment before she realized it was Squall. The snake had vanished as thought it had never been. Ellone looked back out the front of the café.

The woman was gone.


	3. Consequences

**Chapter 2  
Consequences**

Tifa Lockheart ran into the bathroom, bent over the sink, and quite violently threw up.

As she emptied out what seemed like all of last night's dinner, Tifa clutched the sides of the sink with white-knuckled fingers and fought desperately to keep the room from spinning like some frenzied merry-go-round. She retched noisily, her eyes shut tight as she struggled to find some equilibrium. Her head felt like a lead weight, and it was all she could do to keep from dropping her face into her own vomit.

After what seemed like hours, her stomach finally settled into some semblance of calm as the room gradually brought its frenetic rotation to a halt. Without raising her head too quickly lest the dizziness and nausea suddenly return, Tifa rinsed out the sink and wiped her mouth with a towel. She sat down heavily on the closed toilet, arms crossed under her breasts as she sought to regain her composure.

Minutes passed in silence before Tifa finally rose to her feet. She slowly opened the cabinet under the sink, reached over a jumble of cosmetics, deodorant, shampoo bottles, tampons, and extra razor blades, and tentatively withdrew from the back corner a small, rectangular package. In the wan starlight seeping in from the small window on the far wall, Tifa stared anxiously at the box. Time seemed to drag itself on at a snail's pace before she finally summoned the nerve to pull open the flap.

With trembling fingers, Tifa withdrew from the box a flattened white plastic cylinder with a shallow circular indentation near one end and an elongated, removable cap on the other. Under the cap protruded a strip of paperlike material treated with various chemicals. Tifa swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly dry mouth as she gazed uncertainly at the device before scanning the instructions on the back of the box.

It was a simple procedure, really, but she had put it off for weeks, hoping her suspicions were wrong and that her body might be telling her something else, anything but what she hoped for, what she feared. It didn't look that way, though. She had been sick for the last week or so, succumbing to bouts of nausea and dizziness at least once or twice a day, and her monthly cycle was long overdue.

According to the instructions on the box, if the indented circle on the device was pink, then Tifa was pregnant. If the circle was gray, then she was not. Before she could convince herself otherwise, Tifa went through with the procedure and set the testing device on the edge of the sink when she was finished.

The minutes crawled by, and in the gloom, Tifa could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her stomach twisting itself in knots. She gazed out through the small window at the snow that fell gently through the moonless sky to blanket the slopes of the mountains in deep drifts of whiteness. Dawn was still hours away, but Tifa didn't think she would find much sleep for the remainder of the night.

Cloud was out there now, somewhere out on those rugged slopes, keeping watch over her and the rest of the sleeping village. A light sleeper like her husband, she had felt the soft, feathery brush of his lips on her cheek when he had left about an hour ago to start his rounds. She wouldn't see him again until after nightfall.

Tifa absently drummed her fingertips against the windowpane as she waited for the chemicals in the test kit to finish reacting. When she felt enough time had passed, she stepped woodenly over to the sink to check the result, taking the device back to the window to get a better look.

The circle was pink.

The device slipped from Tifa's trembling fingers and clattered to the bathroom floor. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in her ears as she slumped weakly against the side of the tub with her head in her hands while tears ran unheeded down her cheeks. Her chest heaved, finally giving voice to a choked, wavering sob.

Was she going to lose this one, too?

----------

Pinkish gold streamers of sunlight crept slowly through the tops of the leafless, snow-encrusted branches as Cloud Strife made his way steadily along the rugged slope of the mountain. To his left, the western sky still lay dark, untouched by all but the faintest traces of the coming dawn that seeped slowly over the jagged ridgeline across the valley within which the little town of Icicle Inn nestled snugly. As Cloud, boots crunching loudly in the snow and breath steaming in the chill air, made his way steadily up the slope and through a break in the trees, he paused and gazed down at the place he had come to call home.

Though the alpine village had grown some in the six years since the Meteor crisis, it had retained the peaceful, homey feel that had so drawn Cloud and Tifa when they had been searching for a place to start their lives over together after the geostigma incident. Icicle Inn, with its snowy, tree-lined lanes and sturdy brick homes and shops, had held no dark memories to haunt him and his wife, no old ghosts from out of their shared past.

The cool morning breeze whirled playfully across Cloud's face, ruffling his spiky blond hair and pulling him from his thoughts. The sun was finally coming up from behind the mountains to the east, bathing the broad, snow-covered valley in a mixture of orange, pink, and yellow hues that seemed almost to dance along the treetops. Even after two years here, the sight still impressed him on an almost daily basis.

Cloud moved on, walking briskly through the snow and feeling refreshed as he always did when watching the sunrise. He had long ago made it part of his normal routine, as though with the renewing of the day he himself was also renewed in some way. Sometimes he would bring Tifa out here with him so he could share this wondrous experience with her, and it was in those quiet, peaceful moments, where speech was unnecessary and in fact almost irreverent, that he felt closest to her.

Of course it was also on those days that she accompanied him out on his patrols, fighting by his side as she had done so many times before. His blade and her fists had proven over the years to be a most lethal combination, one he never hesitated to take advantage of when possible. There was no one he would rather have at his back in a battle, and they'd saved each others lives so often over the years, ever since the days fighting Sephiroth and Kadaj, that they had lost count.

Cloud sighed but couldn't pinpoint the source of his unease. There had been times lately that Tifa hadn't looked well, but whenever he had approached her about it, she had just shrugged it off or changed the subject. For the most part, though, she did seem fine, so he had never pressed the issue. He wondered maybe if he should have, but for all he knew it might just be her time of the month. That might explain her occasionally odd behavior, although he couldn't be sure.

A soft rustling from somewhere in the trees nearby quickly jerked Cloud into alertness and brought him to a halt. He wrapped a gloved hand around the hilt of his sword and scanned the area for signs of trouble. Snow-dusted shrubs and brush huddled close under a copse of firs and pines dotted with spruce, and in the air hung the underlying scent of evergreens.

In one fluid motion, Cloud quickly drew Buster from over his shoulder, spun completely around, and sliced cleanly in two the bandersnatch that had leapt at his back. From out of the bushes on either side, two pairs of the mutated lupine creatures sprang at him with knifelike teeth bared.

Cloud dove forward and rolled to his feet, bringing his sword up just in time to skewer the nearest bandersnatch before it could tear his throat out. He tossed his sword aside for the moment, and then winced in pain as another of the wolflike monsters bit into his left arm. Grabbing the bandersnatch with both gloved hands, Cloud hurled it at the other two. The beasts collided with a muffled thump and lay growling in the snow as they sought to orient themselves.

With little time left before the creatures regrouped enough to resume the attack, Cloud brought up his sword arm and concentrated his thoughts on the Fire materia fixed into his bracer. The small green orb lit up like a miniature supernova as he focused the spell's energy onto the bandersnatches.

A searing ball of orange flame exploded in their midst, ripping the beasts apart and scattering them across the snow in a shower of blood and flesh. One of the bandersnatches, somehow still alive, managed to drag what was left of its body a few feet before finally collapsing in a blackened, bloody heap of charred flesh and bone. The magically summoned fire subsided almost as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the air reeking of burnt flesh and singed fur.

Cloud slowly brought his arm down, then went and retrieved Buster from where he had dropped it. His other arm throbbing painfully, he pulled a potion from his belt, uncapped it, and swallowed the sweet-tasting bluish fluid. A tingling sensation slowly spread throughout his body, and after a moment, the pain in his arm lessened, though it didn't go away entirely. He would no doubt have at least a few more bites and scratches by the end of the day.

Had he turned around, Cloud might have seen the lithe, blue-haired figure watching him from deep within the trees. As it was, he moved on without looking back, continuing his steady march across the ridgeline. Only when he was a tiny black speck at the edge of sight did his unseen observer move to follow, her footsteps soundless and invisible in the snow.

----------

"Hand me that glass, would you, Marlene?" Tifa asked, pointing to the dish in question.

The slim young girl did so, no longer having to stretch on her tiptoes just to look over the counter. Tifa smiled, amazed at how big Marlene was getting. Ten years old and just starting to look like the woman she would one day be and less like the child she had been. A bright pink bow held her auburn her in a neat little braid, and she took in everything around her with round, inquisitive hazel eyes. Blue jeans and a purple sweater kept out the cold that always hung in the air this far north.

Marlene handed her the glass. "When's Papa coming?"

"Actually, he should be here pretty soon. I bet he'll be amazed at how much you've grown."

Tifa put the glass in the sink with the rest of the breakfast dishes and washed them off while Marlene wiped the table. Bright morning sunshine filtered in from the kitchen windows, flooding the room with light. Yet the cheery atmosphere could not dispel the unrest within Tifa's heart. Her discovery before dawn lay just on the edge of her mind, but she forced herself not to think about it. The last thing she wanted was for Marlene to go asking questions, especially with Barret coming to visit.

As though Tifa's thoughts had summoned him, a series of heavy knocks sounded on the front door. Marlene, her face lighting up, ran off to answer it, leaving Tifa alone for a moment. She had to tell someone. It might as well be her oldest friend. Barret knew her better than any of the others, knew things about her she had told no one else, not even Cloud. Such as her suicide attempt, so long ago, in those dark years when she had first come to Midgar after the Nibelheim disaster. Barret had found her and given her a home and a purpose, a focus for the rage that had boiled within her.

The sound of booted footfalls and deep-voiced laughter pulled Tifa from her thoughts, and she turned to see Barret entering the kitchen, one huge arm wrapped around his daughter. Marlene was too big for him to carry on his broad shoulders anymore the way he used to. She giggled as Barret tickled her with his good hand, digging his thick fingers into her side.

"Papa, stop that!" she laughed, squirming in his grip. "I'm gonna pee my pants!"

"Aw, you're no fun, girl!" Barret grinned. He finally let her go, but not before giving her a quick squeeze.

Tifa smiled in spite of herself. Though an intimidating presence with his dark-skinned, bearded face and flaming skull tattoo across his left bicep, Barret was really a giant teddy bear at heart, at least around Marlene. There was no one on the planet who mattered more to him, even though she wasn't his child by birth. That distinction had long ago ceased to have any meaning for him, and he had fought more than once with his high-powered gun-arm to protect her.

"Oh, leave her alone, Barret," Tifa laughed. "She's just happy to see you, that's all."

Barret fondly tousled his daughter's hair. "Yeah, I know. Good to see you too, Tif. Thanks for taking such good care of my lil' girl here while I been away."

"Papa!" Marlene protested. "I'm not little!"

"'Course not! You sproutin' up right before my eyes, I swear. I jes' always like to think of you as my lil' girl. Now why dontcha go outside an' play? Me an' Aunt Tifa gonna chat for a bit. We got a surprise for you."

Marlene brightened. "Really? What is it? What _is_ it?"

"You'll find out after dinner tonight," Tifa replied. "So go spend some time with your friends 'till then, okay?"

"Alright! Bye, Papa! Bye, Aunt Tifa!"

Her eyes twinkling, Marlene hurried into the hall, grabbed her coat and boots, and went outside into the crisp, cool winter air. Tifa watched her for a moment through the kitchen window. Marlene dashed through the yard, leaving a trail of gaping footsteps in the snow behind her, and headed next door where her best friend Amanda lived. A moment later she stepped into the girl's house and disappeared out of sight.

A heavy, vaguely uncomfortable silence filled the house then, one Tifa found difficult to break. She knew what she had to say, what she wanted to say, but making the words come out seemed more than impossible. It seemed inconceivable. How could she tell him, tell anyone? But there was no way out. The truth would surface eventually. There could be no hiding it forever. And even if she tried, she would go mad.

"So, you got the bike ready?" Barret asked.

Tifa blinked. "What? Oh, that. Yeah, it's all set. Marlene's gonna love it. Listen, Barret, um… there's something I need to tell you…"

"Spill it, girl," he folded his arms expectantly. "You never had trouble speakin' your mind before. Somethin' wrong?"

"I… I'm pregnant…"

Silence greeted Tifa's ears. Even that one admission had drained what resolve she had. Slowly she met his gaze, unsure of what she would see. Barret straightened from where he'd been leaning against the counter and stared at Tifa as though he'd never seen her before. She swallowed, but the hard lump in her throat refused to be dislodged.

Barret frowned. "You don't look happy 'bout it."

"Can you blame me, after two miscarriages?"

"Nah, I s'pose not. But why don't you want to tell Cloud yet?"

Tifa answered with a question of her own. "Do you remember what happened the last time I miscarried, Barret?"

"Oh…" her friend's voice grew quiet, and he nodded. "Yeah, now I do. Been what, six months, now, since he left?"

"Five. He's been staying with Red in Cosmo Canyon."

Barret sighed. "Damn… and I'll bet he hasn't said a single friggin' word to Cloud in all that time, has he?"

"Not one," Tifa murmured. "He writes, but just to me and Marlene. Denzel doesn't even mention Cloud at all."

"Well, after what happened…"

Tifa sighed. "I'm afraid… afraid something like that might happen again. That's why I don't want Cloud to know right now."

Besides, wasn't it enough that he had to deal with what he'd done, however unintentionally, to Denzel that night? True, things had been on edge between them for weeks before that, but Tifa's second miscarriage in as many years had been the final straw. What would happen should she lose yet another baby?

"Don't worry, Tif," Barret patted her shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"I hope so. Cloud and I have been trying for so long to have a child of our own, ever since we moved here. We thought the time was right, and it's so much quieter here than in Healin. Better for the kids than a big city, you know?"

"Yeah. So when are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't know," Tifa replied. "Soon, I hope. Anyway, enough about me. How have you been? The oil business still booming?"

A wide grin spread over Barret's bearded face. "Like crazy, Tif. You wouldn't recognize Corel at all if you saw it today. It's like it never burned down! The coal mines are open again, and the oil rigs are drillin' tons of the stuff and shippin' it out all over. People are forgettin' all about mako, which I can't say I ain't happy about."

"That's good to hear," Tifa smiled.

Barret grunted, then reached into one of the pockets of his sleeveless gray jacket and withdrew a small gold pendant suspended from a length of fine chain. He gazed at it for a while, no doubt thinking of the memories it brought back. Not all of them were good ones, Tifa knew. She wondered how Marlene would take it.

It was some time before Barret finally spoke. "I been meanin' to do this for a while now, jes' wanted to wait 'til Marlene was old enough. I promised Dyne I'd give it to her, remember?"

Tifa nodded. "Right, back when you two fought in the Corel prison. I remember."

"Do you… do you think she'll be able to handle it? I mean, I'm sure she's guessed by now I ain't her real dad. But the rest of it, is it gonna be too much for her?"

"She's ten years old, Barret. It's time she knew."

Another knock sounded at the door before Tifa could reply, and she hurried to answer, wondering who it could be. Not that she minded visitors, she just hadn't been expecting any today other than Barret. Certainly not the man who now stood on her front porch as snow drifted lazily down from the leaden skies. Clad almost entirely in black and shrouded in a crimson cloak, he greeted her in his typically laconic fashion, his voice a deep baritone she knew all too well.

"Greetings, Tifa," Vincent intoned. "I have a favor to ask of you. May I come in?"


	4. Steel & Shadows

**Chapter 3  
Steel & Shadows**

Squall folded his arms as he waited by Ellone's biobed in the infirmary. She had passed out after the incident in the café and hadn't woken up since he'd brought her here. Truth be told, Squall almost hoped she wouldn't, at least for a little while. Ellone needed as much rest as she could find these days. Even without the recent nightmares she'd told him about, the hectic pace of her life and the constant running back and forth between Winhill and Esthar was taking its toll on her.

_What are you doing to yourself, Sis? What's happening to you? You're falling apart right before my eyes. Why are you always trying to be everywhere at once? Don't you know what you want?_

As if in answer to his thoughts, Ellone stirred and blinked open her eyes. They were, Squall noted, rather bloodshot. He'd seen it earlier, too, but in the half-lit infirmary bedroom it stood out even more. Ellone sat up, putting a hand to her forehead and wincing as she tried to make out where she was.

"Are you alright?" Squall asked.

She nodded. "Just a bit of a headache, that's all. What… what happened? How did I get here?"

"You fainted back in the café in Timber," Squall explained. "That was almost an hour ago. I brought you here right after that."

"What about your briefing? You were supposed to be there by now, weren't you?"

Why was she worrying about that after what had just happened? Surely she understood that her well-being mattered more to him than his duties. Cid had all but ordered him to stay with her until she woke up, even if he had to cancel a few of his classes. Not that he needed such an order. Squall would have done that anyway.

He shook his head. "It can wait. I've already told Cid. He and I can worry about Garden business later."

"I don't need you to babysit me," Ellone snapped, thrusting the sheets aside and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm a grown woman, for crying out loud…"

"Fine," Squall turned away, stung by the unexpected retort. "I'll leave you alone, then."

He walked to the door, a heavy silence in his wake. He hadn't wanted to end things like that, but neither did Ellone seem to want him around at the moment. While it was true she didn't need a caretaker per se, Squall had thought his sister would welcome a friendly ear and a bit of companionship. She herself had provided as much for him in the past, so he had thought it only fair that he return the favor.

Her voice stopped him in midstep. "Squall, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean that…"

"Don't worry about it," he replied, facing her again. "You've been under a lot of strain. I just thought you'd want some company, that's all."

"Thank you," Ellone smiled, though her brown eyes drooped with fatigue. "It's gotten to the point where I'm almost afraid to be by myself anymore. You… you'll probably think I'm crazy…"

Squall waved dismissively. "I doubt that. You're one of the sanest people I know."

"Well, wait 'till you hear me out. But I need to know something first. Back in Timber, in that cafe, when I… when I freaked out… you didn't see anything, did you?"

It wasn't a question so much as a statement of fact. Squall shook his head. "No, not a thing. Why _did_ you lose it back there, Sis? You scared a lot of people, including me."

"I… I saw someone… in the crowd outside. A woman, all in black. She was staring at me. Watching me…"

Squall frowned. "Are you sure? I didn't see anyone."

"I'm telling you, Squall, she was there!" Ellone argued. Her hands were trembling as she spoke. "Her eyes, they're terrible! They're not even human! I don't know who she is, but I've seen those eyes in my dreams for weeks!"

"So you think this woman's stalking you or something? What does she want?"

Ellone shivered. "I don't know. When I… when I threw that bowl, it was because there was a snake on my arm. At least, that was what I saw. A big, black viper. I just… I just overreacted. You know how scared I am of snakes."

"Looks like someone else does, too," Squall replied, not liking what that might mean.

"I know it sounds strange," Ellone pleaded, "but it's the truth."

Squall nodded. "Alright. But what do you want me to do? All we've got right now are these nightmares you've been having and a woman nobody but you can see."

She had to know that he couldn't put the whole Garden on alert based just on that. His instincts agreed with her fears, that something bad—very bad, indeed—was on the horizon, and that both she and the woman she'd told him about were connected to it somehow. As the SeeD commander and Garden's leader, however, Squall couldn't afford to go jumping at shadows.

Ellone sighed. "It's not much, I know…"

"Listen, if you see this woman again or anything else, tell me," Squall told her. "Maybe we can find out who she is and why she's so interested in you."

She didn't answer at first, and for a moment Squall thought she hadn't heard him. But then he saw her nod, though her expression told him that her thoughts were clearly far from here. Her fingers were clasped together in her lap, though she had not yet managed to steady them. They trembled ever so slightly, then tightened suddenly as her brown eyes narrowed in resolve.

"Squall… if I wanted to learn, do you think… do you think you could teach me to fight?"

"What?" Squall stared at her.

Ellone rose to her feet, meeting his eyes for the first time since waking up here. "I want to learn how to defend myself. Is that so strange?"

"No, but… you hate fighting. You've said so yourself, remember? Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I'm tired of being in the middle of somebody's twisted schemes all the time. Adel, Odine, Ultimecia, and now this woman. When will it stop? I don't want to run anymore. I'm sick of always being afraid. Do you know what it's like to live with that? To always be looking over your shoulder, wondering who's coming after you next?"

She did have a point, Squall had to admit. And he would feel better himself, now that he thought about it, if he knew she could take care of herself if trouble came looking for her again. But how much time did they have to develop her skills enough so that she could hold her own? He looked at her again, noting the slimness and compactness of her physique. She was in good shape, no doubt from the aerobics she was always doing, so breaking her in wouldn't be as much of a problem as he'd initially thought.

"Alright," he agreed. "I'll see what I can do. But you're going to have to get some different clothes. Those skirts'll just get in the way, and you might want to find some other shoes, too. Boots, to protect your feet."

Ellone nodded. "I understand. Anything else?"

"We'll start tomorrow morning, over in the sparring rooms. That's where the garage used to be. Meet me there at 07:00, bright and early. In the meantime, get some rest. You'll need it."

----------

The sparring and dojo areas were probably the newest of Balamb Garden's additions since the war. Since the old parking garage could no longer be used as such after the Garden had become a mobile base, it had been later renovated into a multipurpose area much like the quad and featured a swimming pool and gymnasium on the first level and a set of four sparring rooms with a central dojo on the second level. Sometimes classes were held here, but often students and faculty came here during their off time to hone their skills or just to relax.

Feeling more than a little self-conscious in the new clothes she'd put on this morning, Ellone stepped into the dojo. She wore a pair of white sweatpants over a light blue leotard, and a pair of soft black leather boots covered her feet. Her short hair was pulled back into a little ponytail to keep it out of her face. Maybe that was why Zell almost didn't recognize her at first.

"Wha? Sis, is that you?" he exclaimed, pausing in the midst of his shadowboxing.

Ellone nodded. "Yeah. Different, I know. Is Squall here yet? I was supposed to meet him this morning."

"Nah, but if he said he'd be here, he'll show. So, anyway, 'sup?"

As long as she had some time, Ellone figured she might as well use it. She talked a bit with Zell while doing some stretches to warm up. No doubt Squall would work her hard, and she wanted to be ready for it. "Well, you know I've been doing a lot of work both at home in Winhill and for Uncle Laguna in Esthar. I like what I do, but… it can be a bit hectic sometimes."

Zell resumed his shadowboxing, throwing punches into the air at invisible opponents. He was a bundle of energy, a blond warrior whose ferocity in combat was matched only by his perpetual and often explosive outbursts. Boots, jeans, a black leather jacket, and his famous Ergheiz fighting gloves completed Zell's unmistakably punk image.

His reply came between punches. "I'll bet… but, well… doesn't it get, you know… tiring… after a while? I mean, why dontcha just… pick one and… go with it?"

"I wouldn't know what to choose. But, you know, Squall's offered me a position here. Selphie's old job, teaching the junior classmen. Speaking of transfers, Zell, I heard you're leaving, too?"

"Yep," he answered. "After the term's over. Gonna be an instructor..."

Ellone smiled. "Squall said something about a girl, too."

"Sheez!" Zell froze, scratching his head even as a slight blush tinged his cheeks. "Does everyone know about that? Well, yeah, I'm goin' to G-Garden to be with Sara. Man, what a girl!"

"Whatever happened to that pigtailed girl? The one from the library?"

Zell shrugged. "It, ah… it didn't really work out with me an' Lily. I mean, she's a bookworm and I'm a fighter, you know? Didn't really last that long. Sweet girl, yeah, but… nah, not for me."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," Ellone patted his shoulder. "How's your mother, by the way?"

"Ma's doin' fine. Thanks for askin', Sis. Still a bit miffed about the transfer, but I'll be visitin' from time to time. Gotta introduce her to Sara, after all."

"So what's she like?"

Folding his arms in front of him, Zell rubbed idly at the elaborate tattoo on his face and grinned. "Sara Trevor… blond, beautiful, and one hell of a good fighter. We met at the Tri-Garden festival last year—you know, the big annual end-of-term party? It's held in a different Garden each year. Last year it was at Galbadia Garden. Lucky for me, heh."

Ellone nodded. "Squall's told me about it, yeah."

"Well, anyway, she's gonna be graduating soon. Wants to be a SeeD, but doesn't want to leave Galbadia. She grew up there, after all. Now that G-Garden's training SeeDs, she'll be able to stay. She's actually comin' to visit soon, gonna be my date for Selphie's wedding, you know? Her train comes in tomorrow, so you'll probably have a chance to meet her."

"I look forward to it," Ellone smiled. "Best of luck to you two."

Zell's blush deepened ever so slightly. "Ah, thanks, Sis. This long distance relationship thing's kinda tough, but at least it's workin' out. Still, I'm definitely gonna miss this place."

Ellone was just finishing up her stretching when Squall walked into the dojo. "You ready, Ellone?"

He had brought his gunblade with him, its blue-white steel shimmering in the light. Was it something Ellone could use? She wasn't sure, but she'd had enough of being chased and used for the dark designs of others. Zell blinked, looking back and forth between her and Squall and suddenly realizing what she was here for.

"Yo, Squall," he scratched his head. "You're teachin' her to fight?"

Why was everyone so surprised about that? Ellone couldn't figure it out. "I asked him to, Zell. It's, well… it's personal."

"She doesn't want to be anybody's pawn anymore," Squall added.

Zell nodded. "Yeah, I guess I can understand that. What style were you gonna use?"

Ellone stared at him blankly. "Style? I'm not sure…"

"That's what we're going to work on today," Squall interjected. "We need to find you a weapon. Something you'll feel comfortable using, like it's an extension of your own body. Come with me, Sis."

Ellone followed him to the back of the dojo, where he unlocked a nondescript brown door and led her into a small storage bay. An armory, she saw. Racks of weapons stood at attention in neat rows. Swords, gunblades, rifles, katanas, nunchuku, and other such implements of combat were all kept here. Ellone wondered if any had seen use before, if any of them had killed before. Suddenly she wasn't sure this was such a good idea. What was she getting into, anyway?

"Take your pick," Squall motioned to the weapons. "We'll try a few out and see what we come up with."

Her first choice was a gunblade, like Squall, and she took it back out into the dojo, ripples of excitement running through her. Yet at the same time she felt strangely nauseated. Part of her wanted to throw up, appalled at what she was trying to do, but she ignored it. The weapon was a basic revolver model but not as heavy as she'd feared. She spent a few hour's under her brother's guidance trying to swing it around and get the proper footing and technique.

She didn't dare pull the trigger, though. Guns were the one weapon Ellone would never use. The plasma guns of Estharian soldiers had taken her parents from her when she was only two years old. She had watched, hidden safely in the little closet under the stairs by her father, as the intruders had shot first him and then her mother, spattering the dining room wall with blood and bullet holes. The memory was still crystal clear even now, twenty-three years later.

After a few last awkward swings, Ellone shook her head. "I don't think this is it, Squall. Let's try something else."

She came back out of the armory with a pair of nunchuku this time, only vaguely aware of what to do with them. She'd seen Selphie fight with them before, but that had been years ago. Ellone fumbled around with the weapons, trying to figure out how to hold them, until Squall motioned for her to give them to him.

"Like this," he said, taking the nunchuku and grasping them in a ready position.

"How do you know how to use them?" Ellone wondered. "I thought that was Selphie's specialty."

Squall deftly spun the nunchuks around his shoulders and waist. "It is. But all Garden students are required to develop a basic level of proficiency in a variety of weapon types. They choose their specialization later."

"I see," she answered.

"Here," Squall handed her the weapon, "you try it. Hold like this, got it? Now, twist your wrist. That's where you control it. Just swinging it around isn't going to do you much good."

Ellone spent some time trying get the handle of how to use the nunchuku, but no matter how she tried, she just couldn't seem to get the hang of it. At one point, Zell came over and demonstrated for her, too. It seemed so easy, so why couldn't she do it? Maybe she wasn't flicking her wrist hard enough. When he returned the nunchuku to her, Ellone gave them a particularly hard spin, shooting it around in a wild arc that sent it thunking against the side of Zell's head.

"OW! Watch it, Sis!" he yelped, rubbing his temple.

She gasped and dropped the weapon. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. But maybe you should go with a different weapon. I don't think nunchuks are your thing."

"You're probably right. Squall?"

He nodded. "Let's go back to the armory."

Several hours went by as Ellone tried out different weapons with Squall and Zell tutoring her in their use. Katanas, hookswords, spears, even a bit of unarmed combat. But still, nothing. None of them felt right. She was getting frustrated and tired and sweaty and wanted only to finish up and take a nice, long hot shower. Putting the pair of sun-moon daggers she'd been using back on their stand in the armory, Ellone sighed and started to leave. This had definitely been a mistake. She was no good with weapons. What had she been thinking? Halfway to the door, however, she stopped as something caught her eye.

It was tucked away in a far corner, which was why she hadn't noticed it earlier. An elegant, finely crafted polearm of unusual design. Ellone took it from the rack, grasping it in both hands and looking it over. It was a staff of solid mythril, the shaft tightly wrapped in toughened anacondaur hide darkened to a glistening black. From either end protruded a razor-sharp blade almost half a meter long engraved with intricate, looping scrollwork. The weapon felt oddly light in her hands, almost as if it wasn't even there. She took it into the dojo, still gazing at it in rapt fascination. Something about it called to her.

Squall noticed her weapon, but she was hardly aware of him speaking. "You want to try that one? It's called a—"

"—bladestaff," Ellone finished.

"How did you know that?" he wondered.

Ellone shook her head. "I don't know…"

Moving to the middle of the room to give herself some space, Ellone set herself into a ready position and took a few practice swings, spinning and thrusting the weapon with an ease that both pleased and disturbed her. How could she do that? It was as though she'd used a bladestaff all her life, yet she'd never even picked one up until today. The weapon was a dark blur as she swept it skillfully through the air. She stopped as Squall approached.

"Looks like you've got the hang of it. Show me what you can do."

He brought up his gunblade, and Ellone realized he meant to test her. She nodded, readying her own weapon, and without any further words, they began. Squall didn't hold back but pressed her fiercely, raining blow after blow down upon her. Ellone parried each one, the clang of steel on steel echoing loudly in the dojo. She was dimly aware that everyone else had stopped what they were doing to watch her and Squall fight. She spun, sweeping the bladestaff first low then high, but Squall wasn't going to be beaten so easily. Lionheart countered every move, the massive gunblade blocking her strokes with ease.

Ellone let herself go, blocking out everything but her opponent. He came at her, fast and hard, his weapon a blue-white shard of crafted steel. Rolling to the side, Ellone sprang to her feet, parrying his strikes and making a few quick thrusts of her own, but still nothing. The battle took her and Squall all around the dojo, their weapons striking the reinforced columns on either side whenever they missed or were turned aside.

How long they fought, Ellone was never sure. At one point she blocked a vicious cut from Squall's gunblade, the shock of the impact against the bladestaff ringing into her arms. She held firm, however, bracing her weapon in front of her and forcing Lionheart away. Squall stepped back, readying himself as Ellone did the same. This time, though, she had a plan. His aggressiveness was a potential weakness that could be exploited.

Instead of charging, Ellone stood her ground and waited for him to come to her. Just as she'd expected, Squall laid into her with his gunblade, his powerful strokes cleaving against the shaft of her weapon. She waited, parrying his blows until she saw the arc of his swings widening. Feigning fatigue, she let her arms drop ever so slightly, encouraging him to lunge in still farther. He did so, overcompensating just as Ellone had suspected he would.

Ducking just as he swung, Ellone spun the bladestaff low in a swift backhand strike that swept Squall's knees out from under him. He tumbled onto his back, only then realizing his mistake, but by that time it was too late. Lionheart flew from his grasp as Ellone whipped the bladestaff back into both hands and thrust it against Squall's throat.

"_WHOA!"_ Zell exclaimed.

For a moment, Ellone didn't move. Blood and adrenaline pumped like fire through her veins, and she started to understand why her brother found combat so exciting. Lowering her weapon at last, she helped Squall to his feet and tried to ignore the hushed murmurs of the crowd, the staring eyes. But it was Squall that disturbed her most. There was something strange in the way he looked at her, a wariness that hadn't been there before.

Retrieving his weapon, Squall turned to her. "Where the hell did that come from, Ellone?"

"I'm not sure…" she answered. "It just felt… familiar, somehow. But I've never touched one of these in my life. I shouldn't know how to use it…"

"But you do. And damn well, at that. Stick with it."

Ellone held the weapon in front of her, gazing at it once more. It really was well-made. "I will. What do you know about it?"

"It's a Centra weapon," Squall explained. "Pretty rare, too. You don't see them used a whole lot these days, what with gunblades and rifles being so popular. But a bladestaff's just as lethal in the right hands."

Zell threw a few punches in the air. "That was AWESOME, Sis! Those monsters in the training center better watch out, there's a brand new butt-kicker in town! OH YEAH!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Zell," she chuckled. "But now that you mention it, maybe I'll check it out and see how well I do against some rea—"

"No," Squall cut her off. "You're not ready."

Ellone stared at him. "What?"

"Uh, Squall?" Zell protested. "She just kicked your ass, man!"

Although Ellone wouldn't have put it quite in those terms, she agreed with Zell. Why shouldn't she have the chance to go into the training center and fight a few monsters? It would build her confidence in her skills. Why was Squall trying to hold her back? True, this was only her first day of training, but she'd discovered she had more talent than she had previously realized. It was only logical to hone those skills as best she could.

"Something about this whole thing just doesn't seem right," Squall shook his head, "and I'm not giving you access to the training center until I'm sure you can handle yourself. Even if I went with you, something might still go wrong. It's not a place for novices. Besides, we still need to get you a GF first."

Ellone hadn't thought of that. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Yeah. But why don't we save that for tomorrow? It's been a long day."

"Alright," she agreed. "Same time?"

Squall folded his arms and nodded. "Sure. We'll work on it then. But before you go, I need to know something."

"What do you mean?" Ellone wondered.

His expression more serious than usual, Squall led her off to a quiet corner of the room. "I probably should have asked this earlier, only I didn't think of it until just now. Have you used your power lately?"

Ellone turned away, suddenly cold. "I don't want to talk about it…"

Her power. The ability for which she had been hunted most of her life. Sending a person's consciousness into the past, into the mind of an individual in that past. Something like a dream, only one she could witness. Witness, but never change. But she had tried anyway. So many nights alone on the White SeeD ship, standing by herself at the rail and watching the endless waves around her. She had sworn that things would be different, that she would _make_ them different.

For a long time she had thought she had done it for Uncle Laguna, so that he and Raine could have been together and so they, Ellone, and Squall could have been the family they should have been. Only in recent days had she come to think otherwise. In truth, she had done it for herself. She had tried to change the past so she wouldn't be alone anymore. Selfish, perhaps, but she had spent ten long years cooped up on that floating prison. It was never what Cid and Edea had intended, to be sure, but that was what it had become to Ellone.

She felt Squall's hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him. "What happened?"

Ellone couldn't have explained it even had she wanted to. Her power was something very personal, a burden she'd carried for so long and would have done anything to be rid of. She hated it. And she hated not being able to understand what was happening to it. Or what she thought was happening. The burning in her blood was stronger now than in the past, a simmering flame waiting to explode. Was it magic? Or something more? There was only one thing Ellone knew for certain.

"It's changing…"

She brushed past Squall without another word and left.


	5. Shards of the Past

**Chapter 4  
Shards of the Past**

"The time is near, my love…"

Twilight in Mideel. The last rays of the setting sun sank below the leafy canopy of the great forest. To the east, all was darkness, a night bereft of moon and stars. Thick clouds blotted them out. The western horizon still glowed with the dying embers of the day's light, the gloom filtering through the trees down to the village of thatched buildings and wooden walkways built upon the shores of the lifestream.

She stood alone at its edge, hooded and cloaked. So it had been for so long, always a shadow, a wraith. A mirage never to be remembered. Such was her fate, that which she had chosen. A shaper of events, designer of history. Yet always alone, ever alone. One of the last of a people long gone, a people she had turned her back on. And why shouldn't she have? They had taken from her that which she had held most dear.

"Soon, we will be together. So much time, lost. They took you from me and let you die. But I made them pay, made them suffer as we have suffered."

From within her black hood, she gazed into the pale green depths of the lifestream with shimmering, amber eyes, their pupils black reptilian slits. Such was the mark of her Queen's power. Once, those pupils had been wide, innocent circles, the irises a gentle brown to match the slender curls of her hair. He had loved both so much. But those days would never come again.

Her amber eyes glittering in the dusk, she slid back her hood to reveal the face of a coldly beautiful young woman. Young, but at the same time immeasurably old. A face frozen in time, belying the age that should have claimed it long ago. Her hair, no longer brown but deepened to darkest black, spilled over her shoulders and down to her hips in an ebony waterfall. Her whispered voice floated through the air.

"Now they are but a memory, a myth of times long gone. Yet I remain. How is that for irony, my beloved? The outcast survives, while those who banished her are no more."

She waded out into the glowing lake, the swirling green tendrils of the lifestream twisting and flowing around her. Was his spirit here somewhere? Could he hear her, feel the aching emptiness in her heart? If only to see him again, to listen to his soothing voice and feel his arms around her, his lips brushing against hers.

Her blood warmed at the thought of his touch, and when she thought of his eyes—those kind, green eyes that could be so gentle, so full of love—her heart fluttered within her ribs. Even now, after all this time and so much change, she was still in love with him. If only her people hadn't ripped him away from her.

"They told me to accept your fate, but I will not. I refused then, and I refuse now. Death will not separate us forever. If I must tear this world apart to find you, if I must plunge it into the deepest of hells, then so be it. I do not care, so long as I am with you."

It was time to do what she had come here for. Plunging her slender hands into the pale emerald mists of the lifestream, she slid her eyes closed and called upon the powers her Queen had bestowed upon her. The breach had to be widened, the flow of souls corrupted. Only then would it aid her.

The misty lake trembled beneath her, its surface tossing like the sea in a storm. Inky blackness spread from her hands outward into the waves, and in their churning depths the lifestream darkened from its customary vibrant green to an ugly, wicked scarlet glow that painted her face in hues of blood.

Opening her eyes once more, she withdrew her hands from the mists and thrust them before her, palms outward. The tendrils of the lifestream writhed, seething with rage as she bent them to her will, forcing them to take shape. She strained, sweat coating her face, as the crimson flow solidified into a cloaked, hulking shape that hovered over the surface of the lake, suspended by several pairs of vast, feathered black wings.

The souls of the dead had answered her call. Before her waited the first of her children, as it were. Those who in life had followed her into the shadows, into an ill-fated rebellion that had resulted in their exile to the dark plane where their Queen resided. Now they would finish what they had begun. But she could not yet bring them all forth. They would come when She did. Only one was needed now.

"Go, cross to the other side. Find the other of our kind. She knows not of her ancestry, of what she is, the bloodline from which she comes. So it should remain. Her power still sleeps, but it will soon wake. You must kill her before that happens. Our great Queen will not tolerate failure. And neither will I."

The hooded horror bowed, fading into the blackness, and once more she was alone. The scarlet tendrils of the lifestream coiled and twisted around her. Soon their hatred would surge outward, scouring the very planet they sustained. The greater the corruption, the larger the breach would become.

She lowered her arms, hearing shouts in the distance. No doubt the townsfolk were coming to find out what was going on. Pulling her hood back up, she exited the lake on the far side and melted into the forest. But before she moved on, she looked back once more at the swirling depths of the lifestream.

"I will find you, my love. I promise."

----------

Tifa passed the steaming mug of hot chocolate to Vincent as she sat down with him in the living room. Barret, who had opted for a beer instead, busied himself with getting a warm blaze started in the fireplace. Though Tifa had shut the front door after Vincent had come in, the cold from outside still lingered. Or maybe it was just her.

"You still have all of Professor Gast's records?" Vincent asked.

Tifa nodded. "Cloud and I saved everything we could find when we renovated this place. It's all downstairs in the basement. Why do you ask?"

"I need to see them, Tifa. May I?"

"Of course," she agreed, "but why?"

Vincent didn't answer right away. Instead, he held up what should have been his left arm. In its place was the bronze claw that the twisted Shinra scientist Hojo had grafted on when he had experimented on Vincent so many years ago in Nibelheim. A vicious, deadly appendage, to be sure, yet it was but one of the alterations that had been made to the former Turk's body. Vincent's gaze hovered over his metallic arm as he spoke.

"You know what Hojo did to me in the depths of the Shinra Mansion. For some time now, I have wondered if it were possible to reverse the damage he inflicted upon me. I went back to the mansion some weeks ago but found little of use there."

Tifa leaned forward, taking a sip from her own mug. "So you think Professor Gast might have known something?"

"Hojo used Jenova cells in his experiments upon me," Vincent explained, "and Gast, while not involved in my… alteration… knew more about Jenova than anyone save Hojo himself. He must have been aware of the transformative properties of her cells."

"And maybe how to shut them down."

Vincent flexed his claw. "Exactly. But then again, he may not have. I do not expect to find much, if anything. However, I wish to at least check."

"Would you like some help?" Tifa offered.

"Yes, thank you. If you have nothing pressing you must do today, that is."

Tifa shook her head. "I'm off today, Celia's watching the bar. So why don't we get started? Barret, are you coming?"

"Nah, that stuff just makes my head hurt. Any idea when Spike's comin' back?"

"Around 7:00 or so," Tifa answered. "That's when he finishes his patrols for the day,"

Vincent rose from his seat and stepped over to a nearby window. "He may return sooner, however. A storm is coming. The clouds darken."

Tifa didn't need to look outside to know her friend was right. She'd seen the leaden skies earlier that morning when she'd gone outside to get the paper. They'd been a dark, ugly gray even then, and it couldn't be too much longer before the snows came down. She'd lived here long enough to tell when a blizzard was on its way.

No doubt Cloud was looking at them as well, somewhere out on those rugged slopes, and coming to the same conclusion. It was just past midafternoon now, which would leave him a few more hours yet before night fell, but he was probably starting to make his way home now in an effort to beat the storm. At least, Tifa hoped so.

"I saw them," Tifa replied. "I'm sure Cloud has, too."

"Guess I'd better go check on Marlene, then," Barret headed to the door. "Don't want her outside playin' when the weather turns bad."

Vincent turned to him. "Of course. I saw her a short time ago playing with some friends just down the road as I arrived. She should still be there."

"Thanks. Guess I'll be headin' out, then."

"She grows taller every time I see her," Vincent continued. "Marlene will soon leave her childhood behind."

Barret grunted. "Don't remind me. I wanna enjoy these last couple years I got before she starts bloomin' and thinkin' about boys and all that."

"Well, you're going to have your work cut out for you, that's for sure," Tifa laughed. "She's going to be breaking a lot of hearts when she gets to that age."

"Don't I know it. Anyway, I'm outta here. Marlene and I'll be back in a while."

A moment later, he was gone, stepping outside into the chilly afternoon air. Tifa closed the door behind him and turned to her other visitor. Still standing by the window, Vincent waited patiently for her. Maybe helping him with his search would get Tifa's mind off of her own troubles, at least for a little while.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

He nodded. "Lead the way, Tifa."

Tifa headed through the living room, past the dining room and into the kitchen, where the basement door stood on one side of the back wall. She opened it and flicked on the light, her nose curling at the faint smells of paint and sawdust. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the bare wooden steps as she led Vincent downstairs.

The basement was actually two rooms. The one in which they stood was the larger and was stacked with dozens of cardboard moving boxes, each one sealed with strips of packing tape and labeled with black marker. In one corner stood a pair of plain gray filing cabinets, and a drafting table and chair sat against one wall. Scattered across its surface were a handful of wide charcoal pencils, a large sketch pad, and sheets of hand-drawn images.

Vincent picked one up, studying it intently. "You did these?"

"Yeah," Tifa nodded. "I got into it after Cloud and I moved here. Well, I've liked to draw since I was little, I just never really pursued it as a hobby until recently. My life was too hectic before that."

"Understandably so. But… these are extraordinary. You truly have a gift."

Tifa smiled. "Thanks. I work on them sometimes when I'm not at the bar or out monster hunting with Cloud."

"These drawings… they are from our journeys together…"

The one Vincent held was a detailed rendering of the Sleeping Forest that guarded the way to the forgotten capital of the Cetra. Hoary old oaks and towering pines that stood like silent sentinels over the leaf-strewn path as the sunlight filtered down through the branches. And in the foreground, the figure of a girl, a young woman in a button-down dress, her long hair twisted into a braid. In her hand was a slender staff, and she stood facing inward, only the barest hint of her face visible as she gazed into the depths of the forest.

On Tifa's desk lay sketches of different battles she and the others had fought, and at varying stages of completion there was also a handful of portraits. Cloud, Aeris, Cid, even Yuffie. There was one of Red standing in the desert canyon that was his home. A few other scenes, some finished and others only just started, completed the collection. Views of Midgar and Junon, confrontations with the Turks, and a scene of Tifa and the others sitting around Cosmo Candle under the starlight. That last was her favorite, although she still had some work yet to do on it before she could call it finished.

"The things we did back then," Tifa explained, "I don't want to forget them. And I don't want to forget her, either."

Vincent put the drawing he was holding back on her desk. "Nor do I, Tifa. I do not believe that we ever shall."

"I know. Anyway, why don't we get back to what we were doing?" Tifa reached into her pocket and withdrew a small key. "We keep the cabinets locked, just in case. That's some sensitive stuff in there, and we didn't want just anyone looking at it, you know?"

"A wise precaution," Vincent agreed.

"Anyway, here it is," Tifa opened one of the cabinets and withdrew a thick sheaf of file folders stuffed with papers. "We can start with these and go from there."

She handed some to Vincent and pulled up a nearby chair as he did the same, and together they started perusing the files, looking for anything that might help. Not all of the material concerned Jenova directly, as Professor Gast had also spent considerable time researching the Cetra, among other things. Much of his research in that regard had come from his extensive interviews with Ifalna, who had been one of the last of that fabled race as well as his beloved wife.

Aeris Gainsborough, dear friend of Tifa and the others, had been born of their union.

As she read through Gast's findings, Tifa wondered if the kind professor would have recognized his old home had he seen it today. She and Cloud had done some extensive remodeling after moving here. The place had stood silent and alone near the edge of town for years before they had bought it, since nobody had wanted anything to do with it after the violence that had occurred there so many years ago.

Hojo had eventually found out where his former supervisor and colleague had fled to and had attempted to capture Ifalna and the newborn Aeris. Some of the notes Tifa was reading were dated only weeks before those events had occurred. Gast had been killed giving his wife and child time to escape, and the old bloodstains had still been there years later when Tifa and Cloud had first come to this place.

Now, the once-abandoned laboratory was a pleasant, cozy two-story house that Tifa had come to call home. She thought that maybe Aeris would not have minded her and Cloud living in the place where she had been born. Tifa still missed her old friend, the girl who had been like a sister to her, but the pain of her loss had lessened over the years and with Tifa's desire to remember Aeris as she had been in life rather than death.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Tifa resumed her search. She had a job to do here, a friend who needed her help. There wasn't time for reminiscing. Tifa scanned the pages, trying to find anything of use, but there was nothing. Taking another handful of folders from the cabinet, she returned to her chair and started in on the next batch.

----------

Dusk was just settling over the town, the sun's last rays sinking below the mountains looming far over the rooftops, when Cloud pulled up outside his house. He cut the engine and dismounted, pushing the sleek black motorcycle into the garage next to Tifa's and kneeling by the back tire. It had felt a little flat on the way home. Probably a sharp rock somewhere, Cloud thought. Riding off-road a lot will do that.

Fortunately the hole was small enough that he could patch it, just a little nick there on the rim. Cloud retrieved the sealant and the air pump from the shelves nearby and within just a few minutes the tire was full again. Taking a rag and some polish, he buffed Fenrir to a shine, getting the dirt and melted snow off of the smooth metal until the bike was sparkling under the garage lights.

Though the rugged and often treacherous terrain of the mountain slopes had proven difficult for Cloud to navigate from atop Fenrir, it was not impossible, and Tifa often rode alongside him on the Blackbird. Nevertheless, they took care not to push the bikes beyond their limits. In particularly rough areas, they would park them next to a tree or some other landmark and continue on foot as Cloud had done today.

Putting the rag and polish away and hanging his sword back on the wall with the others, Cloud brushed off his sleeveless black tunic and pants, opened the door to the kitchen, and stepped inside. "Tif? You here?"

"I'm downstairs, Cloud," her voice rose up to meet him from the open basement doorway.

Unfastening his shoulder guard, Cloud tossed it on the counter and headed down to meet her, his boots clunking on the wooden stairs. Tifa was sitting at her desk, her drawings stacked to one side as she pored over a handful of old files, but she wasn't alone. Vincent was there, too, leaning against the wall and skimming through a sheaf of papers.

Cloud waved a gloved hand. "Hey, Vincent. Find anything?"

"Not yet," he answered, "but we have still searched through only a portion of what Professor Gast left behind."

"What are you looking for?"

It was Tifa who explained it for him. "We've spent all afternoon down here looking for anything that might tell us how to reverse Vincent's condition. Since Professor Gast was the head of the Jenova Project, Vincent thought that he might have known if there was a way to do it or if it was even possible."

"Well, if anyone would have known, it would have been him," Cloud agreed. "So where's Barret? I thought he was visiting today."

"He's with Marlene over at the Lodge. You didn't see him?"

Cloud shook his head. "No, but I haven't been over there yet. I think I'll go ahead and stop by, though. He's probably still the—"

"Look here!" Vincent exclaimed. He placed on Tifa's desk the document he'd been reading, and with the forefinger of his good hand pointed to what he'd found:

_Jenova cells possess unique transformative properties not found in other organisms. Under the influence of certain stimuli, they undergo a complex biochemical process which results in the complete metamorphosis of the host organism. Extensive testing on rodent subjects has resulted in what can only be called grotesque mutations. Some reverted back to their normal forms after a period of time, others did not. There were also other rodents that never transformed at all._

_It appears that the method of infusing them with the Jenova cells plays a part in stimulating the transformative process, as those rodents directly injected with Jenova cells transformed while those which were showered with a combination of the cells and mako did not._

_As has been previously mentioned in earlier documents, the cells of Jenova convey increased strength and stamina to the host organism, hence Shinra's interest in using them for their new SOLDIER troops. But what sort of effect would this alien and possibly dangerous biological matter have on a human being? Would a human host, if his or her will was strong enough, be able to control the transformative properties of the Jenova cells within them? Is this the power of the Ancients, that extinct race of whom Jenova was a part? The goal of our project is to create an Ancient like her, yet if we succeed, what will we have made? And why does it make me so uneasy?_

_Through further testing, I have discovered that under certain conditions, the Jenova cells can be rendered impotent, although they cannot be removed from the host organism once infused. Several of the rodents who had previously transformed were no longer able to do so after I had injected them with the serum. Others died, perhaps because their bodies had become so dependent upon the Jenova cells to survive that they could not function properly without them._

_In some cases, it is possible that a human subject may not have conscious control over the transformations caused by the Jenova cells within his or her body. Perhaps, if carefully prepared and performed, an injection of the right dose might give such an individual control over the metamorphoses, if not halt them entirely. But there is also the chance that such a treatment might kill the individual in question depending upon how long he or she has been infused with the Jenova cells and how deeply ingrained into the individual's physiology the alien matter has become._

_Recorded in the following pages are the instructions necessary for creating a serum such as the one I used in my testing. But I have never attempted using it on a human subject before, and I feel a certain hesitance in doing so, for the reasons stated above. I will not risk a patient's life for the sake of my research, however vital it may be. Hojo believes otherwise, but he is not in charge of this project. I am. And it will proceed as both my scientific duty and my conscience dictate. I can only hope that in time a safer method of suppressing the Jenova cells might be found._

"So, there's a way," Cloud mused, "but it could just as easily kill you as cure you. Not much of a solution, if you ask me."

Tifa frowned. "It's something, though. What do you think, Vincent?"

"It is far more than I had expected to find," he murmured, thumbing through the rest of the pages, "but as you can see, the procedure for creating the serum he speaks of is extraordinarily complex."

Vincent indicated pages and pages of carefully illustrated diagrams, equations, formulae, and other scientific notation and exposition on the serum Gast had written of. None of it made any sense to Cloud, nor did he much care. He didn't trust scientists, not after all that Hojo had put him and Zack through so many years ago.

"Might I keep these files?" Vincent asked.

Cloud nodded. "Sure, just be careful who you show them to. You know how powerful Jenova was. We don't need that bitch coming back."

"Or even just a part of her," Tifa added. "Hmm… Reeve might know somebody in the WRO who could help. Somebody we can trust."

"That was my thought as well," Vincent agreed.

Reeve. The man was something of a character, at least in Cloud's mind. Anyone who fought by remote control cat had to have a screw loose. But he had to admit, Reeve and his World Restoration Organization had done a lot in the rebuilding efforts in the wake of Meteor. People had homes, and perhaps more importantly, hope.

The sudden bang of the front door slamming open upstairs, followed by the heavy thuds of booted feet, jolted Cloud from his thoughts. "What the hell…?"

"Tif!" Barret's voice, oddly strained, cut through the air. "Vince! Get up here!"

Cloud took the stairs two at a time, Tifa and Vincent right behind him. He raced through the kitchen into the living room, where Barret was leaning against the doorframe and breathing heavily. Cloud froze at the sight of his friend. Or rather, what was left of him.

Cut and bleeding in over a dozen places, Barret was a mess. Blood was everywhere, smeared across his temple, lines of it running down his arms, blotches of it staining his clothes. His breath came in hoarse, ragged gasps, and sparks leapt from the remnants of his damaged gun-arm.

"Barret!" Tifa went to him, her eyes widening. "What happened? Where's Marlene?"

"Marlene's gone, goddammit! She's gone!"


	6. Troubled Waters

**Chapter 5  
Troubled Waters**

Laguna gazed at the elegantly beautiful woman on the video screen in his office. Edea Kramer's soft, dark eyes and her warm smile were probably the things he liked most about her, that and the long strands of black hair that spilled down past her shoulders.

"Something I can do for you, Mrs. Kramer?" he asked.

She smiled, sending a butterfly tumbling through Laguna's stomach. "I had thought that we were past the need for formalities by now, Laguna. We're friends, after all."

That was true enough. He and Edea had met regularly over the last six months to discuss and hammer out the details for building the new Garden facility to be based in Esthar. As her husband was often occupied by the other details and duties of being Balamb Garden's headmaster, Edea had taken on the project herself.

"Yeah, you're right," Laguna chuckled. "So what can I help ya with, Edea? Oh and how's the baby doin'? I hear it's a girl, Kiros was just tellin' me. I love kiddies, they're so cute, you know? Especially the girls. Ellone was soooo adorable when she was little, even when she'd be throwing a tantrum. There was this one time—"

"Are you going to babble on all day," Kiros interjected, standing at Laguna's elbow, "or do you plan on letting the headmistress get in a few words first?"

Laguna blinked. "Hey, knock it off, will ya? I was getting there!"

"It's quite alright," Edea laughed. "It would not have been the first time. Your president seems to have a talent for digression, Minister Kiros."

He sighed. "You have no idea…"

"Well if you two are through poking holes in my ego," Laguna grimaced, "maybe we can get down to business?"

Edea nodded. "Of course. I read your report about the excavations going on in Centra. That project is under Dr. Odine's supervision, is it not?"

"Yeah, it's his baby. Kiros an' Ward are keepin' an eye on it, though."

"I read as much. But there was little information on the project itself. The main objective was to find the sorceress tombs, I believe. Have you any idea why Dr. Odine is so interested in them?"

Laguna rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, he says they'll give us a lot of insight into Centra culture and civilization and all that. But you know him, I'm sure he's got something else in mind, it's just a matter of figuring out what it is. They found the tenth tomb just this morning, so that means two are still out there somewhere."

"Twelve tombs… and twelve sorceresses," Edea murmured, her voice so low Laguna almost didn't catch what she'd said. "Laguna, do you know anything about the Coven?"

"Huh? No, I can't say that I do. Kiros?"

His lean, dark-skinned friend shook his head. "No, and neither does Ward. But he thinks—and I agree—that whatever it is can't be a good thing. Just look at his face, man."

Standing on Laguna's other side was his other best friend. A looming giant of a man, Ward might not have been able to use his voice anymore, but somehow Kiros could always tell what he was thinking and feeling. Laguna didn't know how he did it, but he trusted his friends' judgement. They had a lot more sense than he did, after all. Probably why he was still in once piece after all they'd been through together.

"Well, Edea," Laguna offered, "why don't you let me look through the archives here for you and see what comes up?"

Edea nodded. "Thank you, Laguna. I appreciate your help."

"Heeey, that's what friends are for, right? I'll let you know as soon as I find something."

"I will be waiting, then," she replied. "Oh, I almost forgot, you were asking how the baby was. It is indeed a girl! She is doing well, thank you."

Laguna smiled. "Good to hear it! So I'll see you at our meeting next week? We've still got a lot of ground to cover if we're gonna get these proposals for the new Garden approved. You know how stubborn the senators can be. Maybe you can convince them better than I can. After all, it was your idea to start with."

"I will try. It will be of great benefit to both Garden and Esthar to have one of our schools there. In the meantime, I must go now. Thank you again for your help, Laguna, and I look forward to seeing you soon."

She said goodbye, and her image on the video screen winked out. Laguna sighed, his gaze lingering over the blank screen for a few moments. Maybe he'd spent too much time with her, laughed with her a little too much. A year ago, he'd barely known her. But then she had come to him with the idea of building a Garden in Esthar.

"You can look away now," Kiros said. "She's not there anymore."

Laguna folded his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Laguna, do I really need to explain it to you? You're walking a very tight line here. Be sure you stay on the right side."

"Hey, hey, it's not like that!" Laguna protested. He leapt to his feet, then doubled over as his knee gave out. "Damn, not again…"

Kiros shook his head. "You're a bad liar."

"Look, Kiros, she's a good friend, that's all. That's all she is to me."

"A good _married_ friend," Kiros reminded him. "Be sure you remember that. Because if you don't, you could wind up in a _very_ messy situation."

----------

Edea sighed, drumming her fingers absently on her desk as she ended the transmission with Laguna. When had she stopped thinking of him as President Loire? Edea wasn't sure. She supposed it wasn't all that surprising, though, what with the amount of time they'd spent together over the past six months working on the Esthar Garden project. But a part of her wondered if perhaps she hadn't gotten too close to him.

"What am I doing…?" she wondered.

Somehow, Laguna could always make her laugh. He could be so adorably funny sometimes, often without meaning to. At her last meeting with him, Edea had been working with him on committee proposals, progress reports, and some of the other such bureaucratic nonsense they were having to put up with to get this dream of theirs realized.

Laguna had spun off into one of his endless tangents, talking about his younger days as a soldier and journalist in Galbadia. Something he had said, some funny comment Edea couldn't quite remember now, had sent them both into gales of laughter as they had sat together in his office. By the time she had finally composed herself, Edea had found her gaze lingering on him perhaps a bit longer than it should have.

He had been looking at her too, meeting her eyes with his own clear green ones, before stammering something incoherent and running his hand bashfully through his loose ponytail of brown hair. She liked it, streaked with gray though it was. Laguna had looked away and so had she, not liking the fluttering she'd felt within her breast at that moment. Though she knew she ought not feel as she did, Edea hadn't been able to help it. Laguna was as lively and energetic as Cid was reserved.

The door chime cut through her reverie. A welcome interruption, Edea supposed, under the circumstances. "Please, come in."

Her office door slid open, and Ellone stepped inside, her face bereft of its usual smile. Something was clearly bothering the younger woman. She wore a short-sleeved white blouse, a pale blue skirt that hung down to her knees, and a troubled frown. Edea had heard about yesterday's incident in the dojo, but she thought that perhaps, strange as that alone was, that something else was on Ellone's mind.

"Matron, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked.

Edea nodded. "Of course, Ellone. Would you care to take a walk? I can use the exercise, and besides, I need to escape this little office from time to time."

"I'd like that," Ellone agreed.

Careful not to bump her enlarged abdomen against the edge of her desk, Edea rose to her feet and joined Ellone by the door. "Let us go, then, shall we?"

She stepped outside and took the elevator downstairs to the Garden's first floor, Ellone at her side. It wasn't until they were making their way along the curving, shrub-lined central hall that Ellone finally spoke. Edea had thought it best that her foster daughter, the oldest of the children she and Cid had helped raise so many years ago, give voice to her thoughts without her Matron prodding her to do so.

As she listened to Ellone's revelations of her strange dreams and the terrible vision she'd had in the café, Edea felt her disquiet return. Did these events have some connection to the dig in Centra, to those ancient sorceresses whose tombs Dr. Odine was so desperately seeking? Yet as strange as Ellone's tale was, it did not end there, and what she went on to reveal was something Edea was certain she had not yet told another soul.

"My power… I don't know what's happening to it, Matron," she murmured. "I don't have any control over it. It… it's not what it was…"

Edea pursed her lips in thought. "How do you mean?"

"I'm not really sure, myself, but… I can't use it the way I used to anymore. I can't send anyone into the past."

Disturbing, indeed. Edea knew only a little about Ellone's power, her unique ability to send a consciousness through time. But what she did know, what she had seen, was more than enough. Ellone had spent half her life in hiding because of it. And now it was changing? Edea doubted the timing was any coincidence.

"You tried using it recently?" Edea had already deduced the answer, but she felt Ellone needed to say it herself.

Ellone sighed. "Yes, a few weeks ago. Not to change anything, but… just to look. I wanted to see if I could find my parents."

It was perfectly natural, Edea thought, that Ellone would have wanted to know more about her mother and father. They had died protecting her when she was only a child. But aside from that, she knew nothing else about them. Why had Ellone tried using her power, though? Surely there were people in Winhill who might have known them.

"Did you not ask around in Winhill, or look into the town's records?" Edea asked.

"Yes, I did all those things, but the people who were old enough to remember didn't want to talk about them, and there wasn't much in the archives, either."

That was unusual, certainly. But not entirely unexpected, given the circumstances. "So you used the only means left to you. But it did not go as you thought it would, did it?"

"No," Ellone shook her head. "Not at all."

Edea's steps had taken her and Ellone to the corridor leading to the quad, but she paused and motioned for Ellone to sit with her on a nearby bench for a bit first. Walking with the baby inside her had a way of quickly wearing her out. It would only take a few moments for Edea to catch her breath, but she didn't want to go on just yet. Ellone's trembling fingers told her it would be better to wait.

Ellone took a slow, measured breath before continuing. "I… I used Squall because, well, I had used him before. I was going to send him into Raine's mind, since she had known my parents before they died. And because I thought that it might help him get to know his mom a little, too…"

"Go on," Edea laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am listening."

"Well, I tried to send him, but… my power, it… I guess you could say it backfired. There was a… flash of light, like an explosion, and I flew back against the wall, like somebody had picked me up and thrown me. I actually hit my head so hard I passed out."

Edea frowned. "What about Squall?"

"He wasn't there," Ellone explained. "I was at home in Winhill, and he was here at the Garden. You remember how I can use my power over distances, right? He doesn't know what happened. I never told him that I tried to send him."

"You didn't want to worry him."

Ellone nodded. "Right. And besides, I still don't know what happened. My power, it's there, but somehow… it's different. This is going to sound strange, but… it feels… it feels almost _alive,_ somehow…"

"Alive?" Edea echoed, her unease growing.

"I don't know how else to describe it," Ellone clasped her fingers together in her lap in a futile effort to steady them. Her face had gone pale. "I'm scared, Matron. I can't… I feel like I'm losing control. I… I don't know what's happening to me…"

"That is why you have not been yourself lately, is it not?"

"Yeah. I… I wasn't sure who to talk to, how to say it. Or if I was just imagining things. I even snapped at Squall yesterday when he tried to get me to talk about it."

Edea had never known Ellone to be brusque with anyone before. The younger woman always had a smile and an encouraging word for everybody she met, a trait for which Edea was very proud of her. So to see her so troubled that it would cause her to forget herself and lash out, albeit unintentionally, bothered Edea more than she cared to admit.

So too did the incident in the dojo, although Edea said nothing aloud. That Ellone, who had possessed no extraordinary skill or talent in the martial disciplines, should have so masterfully wielded such a rare and exotic weapon as a Centran bladestaff, also gave Edea pause. But then again, was it really that much of a surprise, given who the previous owner of that weapon had been? How strange that it had found Ellone, of all people, after sitting all but forgotten in the Garden's armory for so many years.

"Perhaps you should find him and tell him what you have told me," Edea suggested. "He is your brother, after all. He would want to help."

Ellone smiled. Weak and fragile though it was, Edea nevertheless thought it a welcome sight. "I will. I just needed to get it off my chest first, and I thought you might understand a bit better than he would, you know?"

"Of course. I am always here for you, Ellone."

"Thank you, Matron," she replied, her slender shoulders lifting slightly as though she had shrugged off some heavy burden. And perhaps, Edea thought, she had.

Edea put a hand to her abdomen as she felt Sariese stirring within her womb. The baby had dozed off earlier, but she seemed to be waking up now. Edea longed to hold her in her arms, to see her little face, but that was still a few months away. She had the sonograms, of course, framed both in hers and Cid's quarters and in her office. Though she could barely make out what she was seeing in the hazy black and white printouts, it still sent a thrill through her whenever she glanced at those first images of her child.

"The baby?" Ellone asked.

Now it was Edea's turn to smile. "Yes. She is just waking up, I believe."

"Can I…?" the question escaped Ellone's lips as she tentatively reached out the delicate fingers of one hand, her brown eyes hopeful.

Edea nodded. "Of course."

Ellone laid her hand lightly over Edea's belly, her smile deepening as she felt the baby moving beneath her hand. Yet there was something sad about that smile, too, and Edea thought she knew what it might be. Ellone ran her fingers lightly over the curve of Edea's abdomen, the longing in her eyes unmistakable.

"You will be a fine mother someday," Edea assured her.

Ellone blushed and pulled her hand away, clasping her fingers together in her lap again with a weak laugh. "I… I hope so…"

"There is nothing for you to worry about, Ellone. You are a beautiful, intelligent young woman, and I think you have been alone quite long enough."

"Matron, stop," Ellone chuckled. "You're embarrassing me. Besides, I… I don't have time for… well, for things like that…"

"Perhaps you should make the time," Edea suggested.

Ellone shrugged. "Maybe. But I've been awfully busy lately, and there's still so much I've got to get done, both at home and for Uncle Laguna in Esthar."

It was certainly true that Ellone's life of late had been hectic, to say the least. Spending a few weeks pruning geraniums in Winhill, then the next month helping her Uncle Laguna write speeches and make policy in Esthar, then back to Winhill and back to Esthar, repeating the cycle over and over again. It had to have taken a toll on her. Edea hoped Ellone would take Squall up on his offer to teach at the Garden and leave both her other jobs behind, but that was her decision to make.

Perhaps, Edea thought, her foster daughter was trying to outrun her loneliness by keeping so busy she wouldn't have time to think about it. Although she would never have called herself a matchmaker, Edea felt that Ellone could use—no, that she _needed_—a man in her life, someone to love her in a way no one else could. But romance was such a wily and unpredictable thing. It would happen in its own time, she supposed.

Before she went any farther along that line of thought, Edea stood and stretched her legs. She didn't want to think about her own muddled feelings right now. "Let us go, Ellone. I would like to see how Selphie has decorated the quad for the wedding, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I promised her I'd help her out with that," Ellone nodded, rising to her feet.

Rested and ready to move on, Edea walked down the corridor leading to the quad, Ellone at her side, and it wasn't long before a familiar coppery-haired face greeted them at the top of the stairs at the quad's entrance. Selphie Tilmitt was as cheery as ever, her green eyes dancing and her lips curving from ear to ear in a big smile.

"Heeeey, Matron! Hiya, Ellone!" Selphie engulfed the other girl in a tight hug. "Glad you could stop by! It's been super duper mega busy here but the place is lookin' good! Take a look around!"

Before either Edea or Ellone could reply, Selphie let go of Ellone and skipped down the stairs, her bright yellow sundress tumbling around her thighs with every bouncing step. She motioned for them to follow, waving enthusiastically and pointing at the decorated stone columns and the long banquet tables near the dance floor.

Streamers of white and yellow hung everywhere, and the banquet tables were covered with white tablecloths. At the far end of the quad on an elevated dais stood the staff table, where Edea, Cid, Squall, Rinoa, and the rest of the faculty would sit. And wherever Edea looked, there were flowers. Lilies, buttercups, daises, and geraniums bloomed in a veritable explosion of white, yellow, and pink from hundreds of vases spaced along the tables and from dozes of pots along the walls and around the columns. A gaggle of students and staff hurried through the quad like worker ants, cleaning and decorating and arranging and performing a thousand other little tasks. Apparently, Selphie and her famous annual Garden Festival had attracted quite a following.

"It's wonderful, Selphie!" Ellone exclaimed. "What can I do to help?"

Selphie squealed in delight and clapped her hands. "Ooh, I've got just the job for you, Sis! But first you an' me are gonna run into town to get a few things. We gotta pick up the cake and your bridesmaid's dress and some other stuff. Irvy's comin' with us, too."

"Where is he? I don't see him."

"He's gonna meet us at the upstairs exit," Selphie explained. "Oh, and Rinoa and Quisty are comin' back today, so we're gonna meet them at the station."

Ellone smiled. "It'll be good to see everybody again. When do we leave?"

"Right about now! I just gotta tell Mark that I'm leavin' for a bit. He's in charge when me and Irvy are gone. Come on, I'll introduce you!"

Selphie took Ellone by the hand and guided her to the staff table, Edea following close behind. There was nobody there at the moment save a young man in a SeeD uniform, his close-cropped dark hair framing a pleasant, open face with hazel eyes. Mark Denham, she saw. Annie Denham's prodigal son.

"Mark, it is good to see you again," Edea smiled. "I hope your mother is feeling better than last I heard."

He nodded. "Thank you for asking, Matron. Dr. Kadowaki says she's gonna make it! I know my mom's just a lunch lady here, but it means a lot that you and others have been asking about her. She appreciates it, too."

"Well, the cafeteria just wouldn't be the same without her stories!" Selphie grinned. "She and I talk all the time when I go in there!"

"She was very sick, was she not?" Edea asked.

Mark sighed. "Yeah, it was really bad. Dr. Kadowaki wasn't even sure what it was, exactly. My mom and I had gone to visit some family in Timber a few weeks ago, and it was after she got back that she fell ill. Maybe somethin' bit her, I dunno."

"She'll be back at work in a few days, right?" Selphie asked.

"Yeah, she wants to, just depends on what the doc says. She might want to make my mom wait a little longer to make sure it's really gone, though."

Edea had met Annie Denham a few times since coming back to the Garden after the war. A smiling older woman with graying brown curls and twinkling blue eyes, Annie was a favorite among most of the cafeteria's visitors, often chatting away with students and faculty alike while serving them their food. Edea doubted the cafeteria would have been quite the same place without her.

"How did she recover?" Edea wondered.

Mark shrugged. "Ah, I'm not really sure… she had a high fever and chills and blotches on her skin, but a few days ago they just… disappeared."

"I'm relieved to hear she is well, Mark, however unusual her illness was. And, if I may, let us move on to brighter topics."

"You said it, Matron!" Selphie exclaimed. "Hey, Mark, this is Ellone. She and I go way back! We're gonna step out for a bit with Irvy, so take care of things 'till we get back!"

Mark shook hands with Ellone and nodded. "Will do. Have fun, girls!"

"You bet! Catch ya later!" Selphie waved and led Ellone and Edea back up the stairs to the quad's arched exit, giggling all the while.

Ellone looked at her. "What's so funny?"

"Cute, isn't he?" Selphie asked, a knowing look in her eye. "Did you like him?"

"Oh, not you, too!" Ellone shook her head helplessly. "Matron was just getting on me about that same thing."

Edea laughed. "It is only because we want to see you happy, Ellone."

Which was true enough, although Edea would not have pressed the issue so blatantly. But then again, Selphie could be very blunt when she wanted to be, although also a bit overenthusiastic at times. Edea thought that with the wedding so near, it wasn't all that surprising that Selphie would want to see who else she could match up.

"So?" Selphie smirked, elbowing Ellone playfully in the ribs. "What do you think? You still need a date for the wedding, you know. I'm just tryin' to help!"

Ellone shrugged. "He's okay… if a bit young. I don't know, I think I'd prefer someone older than me. But like I told Matron, I really don't have time for any of this right now."

"Aw, come on, Sis! There's _always_ time for romance!"

"Easy for you to say," Ellone replied. "You're getting married in a few days."

Selphie wasn't going to be deterred that easily, though. "Heeey, it'll be your turn soon enough, dontcha worry about that! You'll meet some great guy soon, I just know it! Oh, I betcha he's gonna be tall, dark, and _really_ handsome, and he's gonna sweep you right off your feet! Tee-hee!"

A smile crossed Edea's lips. That might not be such a bad thing, she supposed, were it to happen. She agreed with Selphie that it would do Ellone good to start meeting people and dating. Working oneself to death was no way to live.

Edea walked with the girls down the corridor to the Garden's main hall, listening idly to their chatter—well, it was mostly Selphie, to tell the truth—and feeling the baby rustling around inside her womb. A brisk stroll to the elevator completed her little trek for the day, and within moments she was riding upstairs with her two companions.

"I am afraid I must take my leave of you," Edea told the girls. "I have to return to my office to work. But do enjoy yourselves!"

Selphie bounced on her feet as the doors opened onto the second floor. "We sure will, Matron! See ya later!"

"Bye, Matron," Ellone waved as she and Selphie stepped out. "Thanks for listening."

Edea nodded. "I am happy to help."

Once the elevator doors shut and Edea was alone, she leaned wearily against the curving glass wall. That walk must have taken more out of her than she had thought. In any case, she had to get back to those reports she'd been working on earlier before Laguna had called. Oh, not now. The last thing she wanted was to be thinking about him, and about how he made her feel. It couldn't be right, but she could no more control her heart than the flow of her blood within her veins.

She loved Cid, only Cid. The man she had married. A wonderful, kind man who had made so many sacrifices for her and so many difficult choices. Yet when she tried to form his face in her mind, it wavered and reformed into a different face, one with green eyes instead of brown ones framed with glasses. Long, graying dark hair in a rakish ponytail instead of short, blond strands. A wide, impish grin instead of a small, reserved smile.

Love could be so difficult sometimes.

----------

Mark waited until the women were out of sight. He'd made sure no one was around the staff table for the few moments he needed, but then Selphie had come bouncing up, the headmistress and the other girl right behind her. Mark hadn't expected her for at least a few more minutes, but it didn't look like she or the others had seen anything.

Glancing around with furtive eyes, he saw that everyone was busy decorating, arranging, or whatnot. Nobody was looking his way. Mark slipped a hand into the pocket of his uniform and withdrew a flattened metal disc roughly the size of his palm. A pale green sensor node blinked at its center.

"You're not seriously thinking of doing this, are you?" a familiar voice questioned.

Mark whirled around, hiding the device behind his back. How did she _always_ sneak up on him like that? "Lily! Where'd you come from?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you, Mark. And I don't like this at all."

She was so pretty, even when she was upset. Mark loved those dark pigtails, the small, pink lips, her sparkling blue eyes, and her short, slim frame. He'd gotten close to her over the past year but still hadn't worked up the nerve to try moving past the friendship that had grown between them in that time. She was the only one who knew about… about what he had to do now. The only one he had been able to trust with his secret.

"I know. You've told me before," Mark sighed. "but… if I don't do this… Mom'll die…"

Lily put her hands on his shoulders. "And if you do go through with this, what's going to happen? Do you even know what it is you're holding?"

"No, but… I can guess…"

"So can I. And I… I don't think you should trust the word of a strange woman you hardly know over mine, your best friend!"

Mark sighed, even as warmth raced through his body at Lily's touch. "I know… but she saved Mom's life. She made her sickness go away. And all she asked in return was a small favor. I owe her, Lily. She said… she said she would know if I didn't do it. And that the sickness would come back."

That hadn't been all, of course, but Mark couldn't bring himself to tell Lily the rest. The strange woman had whispered that the sickness wouldn't just return to his mother if he failed in his task. It would infect others as well. Particularly those close to him. Mark didn't want to think about seeing Lily suffer like that.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked.

"No, but… I don't have a choice."

Lily nodded, then, much to his surprise, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Then finish it, Mark. I'll stand by you, whatever happens."

"Lily…" he gazed at her, hardly able to believe what she had just done. His heart was hammering against his ribs. "I can't let you get involved in this…"

"I already am, remember? Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go through this alone?"

She did have a point, but… if this thing was what Mark thought it was, then he was going to be in a lot of trouble in a few days' time. He didn't have any intention of running, but neither did he want Lily to be drawn into what would undoubtedly happen to him. Especially with the excitable reputation her ex-boyfriend had. Zell might possibly enact his own brand of retribution once he found out, and Mark did not relish the thought of Lily being with him in the path of that particular storm.

"Go on," Lily told him. "I'll keep watch for you so no one sees."

Mark swallowed and brought out the nondescript metal disc. It looked almost like one of those flying saucers they showed pictures of in magazines like Occult Fan. What was it? Certainly not a miniature UFO, but no doubt a device of some sort. High-tech, probably. Was it Estharian? How had that woman gotten hold of it in the first place? Mark didn't know, nor did he really want to.

Grasping the device in his palm with the sensor node down, Mark slipped his arm beneath the fringe of the white tablecloth and pressed the metal disc against the underside of the table until it stuck. He depressed the sensor with a push of his finger and withdrew his arm before he could think too much about what he had just done. Mark let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Now all that was left was to wait.


	7. Abduction

**Chapter 6  
Abduction**

While Tifa and Vincent had spent the afternoon searching through those musty old files in the basement, Barret had gone outside to check on Marlene. She was just a couple houses down right where Vincent had said she was, chucking snowballs and making snow angels with some of her friends. Marlene waved when she saw Barret coming, and he grinned back at her. It was good to see her having fun.

"Hey, dad!" she called. "School's out today 'cause the snow's so deep! Isn't that cool?"

The white stuff was in fact almost two feet deep, maybe a little more. Though the main roads had been cleared, many of the smaller avenues still were blanketed in snow. Barret had never cared much for the cold, but at least it wasn't as bad here as it was further north, beyond the Great Glacier. That place was like a goddamn freezer up there.

Something wet and white slammed into the side of Barret's head, showering his face with white flakes. "Wha—? Hey, watch where you kids are throwin' them things, will ya? Man, not even a right good one, either. Lemme show you how it's done!"

Barret scooped up a handful of snow and started packing it in his good hand. The secret to a good snowball was to make it tight, otherwise it would fly apart when you tried to throw it. He'd spent many a winter in Corel throwing snowballs around with Dyne when the two of them had been growing up together.

Once he was satisfied with his snowball, Barret took it in his mechanized right hand and let it fly. It smacked with a satisfying thud into the arm of one of the other kids there. Not hard enough to hurt, but certainly enough to get the boy's attention. Marlene grinned, then launched one of her own back at her surrogate father.

Barret dodged it, laughing all the while, and scooped up some more snow. "That the best you can do, Marlene? Papa's got one for you, too!"

The other kids, about three or four of them, took this as some sort of unspoken cue, as Barret suddenly found himself beset by a hail of snowballs, another of Marlene's leading the pack. Half of them plopped against his arms and chest while he managed to avoid the rest and tossed his own snowball back at Marlene.

"You wanna play, too?" she giggled, ducking as the snowball grazed her shoulder.

Barret grunted, but he was smiling. "It'd be four on one, girl! That's no fair!"

"But you're bigger than us!" said one of the other kids, a black-haired girl with a ponytail. "That makes it even, right?"

"Lesse you keep up with me, then!" he roared.

In his winter battles with Dyne, Barret had mastered the fine art of making a well-packed snowball in mere seconds. He hadn't always have the chance to just stand around and make them, since Dyne had loved pelting him with them constantly. Making them on the run was tough, certainly, but exciting, too. As he had jibed with the kids, Barret had been scooping up snow and packing it into balls and now had a sizable handful of them. Of course, the kids had been arming themselves, as well.

Barret let loose, tossing his snowballs and doing his best to weave around the ones Marlene and her friends were throwing his way. He got hit as often as he dodged them, but he didn't mind. It had been a long time since Barret had had fun like this. His laughter and the kids' mingled in the air as the snowball fight erupted in full.

Some ten minutes later, Barret was lying flat on his back, panting for breath, the last of his ammunition expended. Marlene sat nearby, giggling with her friends. She knew how to make good snowballs, too. After all, Barret had taught her himself.

"Damn, girl…" he breathed. "You got more energy than I do. Or maybe I'm jes' gettin' old. Still, it was fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah! Especially 'cause I finally beat you!" Marlene teased.

Barret sat up and brushed himself off. "Heh, you had help, though. Still, good job. I s'pose you gonna want to tell Tifa all 'bout it, right?"

"You bet!"

"Well, save it for later, girl. She and Vince are workin' on stuff right now. Probably gonna take all afternoon. You wanna get some food at the Lodge? Dunno about you, but all that runnin' around's got me starved."

Marlene sprang to her feet. "Yeah! I'm hungry, too!"

"Awright, then," Barret picked himself up and stood beside her. "Say bye to your friends while I bring the truck around."

Barret trotted over to Cloud's driveway where he'd parked his heavily modified black pickup and drove it down to the curb where Marlene was waiting. She hopped in beside him, rubbing her hands as the warmth from the heater started filling the cab. It felt good after all that rolling around in the snow.

The engine purred as Barret pulled out and drove down the road to Icicle Lodge, a large inn and restaurant that was one of the town's best-known landmarks aside from Tifa's relocated Seventh Heaven bar. She and Cloud had bought the Lodge almost a year ago to take advantage of the tourists that visited every year to try out the region's famous skiing and snowboarding courses just north of town.

Barret could guess another reason for Tifa's recent business ventures. As he pulled into the Lodge's parking lot, he glanced at Marlene. She was staring out the window, her breath fogging up on the glass. Barret was on the road so much these days maintaining his booming oil business, and while he missed Marlene a lot, he knew she was in a far better place with Tifa and Cloud than with him.

Bringing the truck to a halt, Barret killed the motor and got out. He took Marlene's hand in his as he met her outside, and together they walked toward the inviting warm glow of Icicle Lodge's golden lights. Barret's thick boots crunched in the snow, taking one step for every two or three of Marlene's.

Suddenly he stopped, glancing around the lot, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to rise. Barret saw no one save a few folks making their way to the Lodge and another group heading back to their cars, however. Nothing suspicious, nothing that should have triggered his internal alarms. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

"What is it, dad?" Marlene wondered.

"Nothin', sweetie," Barret answered. No need to worry her, especially if it really was nothing. "Let's jes' get inside an' get some chow, okay?"

She nodded, and they headed on to the Lodge's main entrance. Marlene skipped in first, but before Barret followed, he took one last glance behind him. Still nothing out of the ordinary that he could see. But that feeling of dread within him grew stronger, if anything. He shook his head and followed his daughter inside.

----------

Iseldra watched the huge dark-skinned man and his daughter as they went inside the Lodge. They hadn't seen her, although the man—Barret, his name was—seemed to have felt something was suspicious. He'd looked around but not found her. Iseldra had long ago perfected the art of not being seen.

Wrapped in a plain gray traveling cloak, she waited in the shadows of the Lodge's east wing, beneath the eaves of the roof where icicles hung down from its edges like a line of frigid spears. Iseldra pondered the task her dark mistress had set her. The little girl was the one she was to take, the one called Marlene.

It would not be easy with that behemoth of a man guarding her, but Iseldra did not doubt she could do it. The powers her mistress had given her would see to that. She felt almost shriveled inside, though, like something was eating at her from within. Perhaps that was the price of her power, losing a part of herself, a part of her soul. But it would allow her the chance to enact her vengeance upon those who had so wronged her. First, however, Iseldra would finish this one thing her mistress had demanded of her.

Would she follow through on her word? Iseldra couldn't be sure, but neither could she take the risk of not doing as the woman asked. Whoever she was, her mistress had eyes even in remote places such as this. She would know if Iseldra did not complete her task, of that she was sure. When Iseldra had been exiled from her glacier home and left for dead in the mountains by her sisters, her fellow ice maidens, the robed woman had saved her life. She could take it away just as easily.

Iseldra would give her no reason to do so. She had to live, to take her son back from those who had stolen him. Her mistress had promised to help once this task was done. There was something the woman needed, something she couldn't get herself but which others could. Strife and Lockheart. They would do as Iseldra asked. She had watched them long enough over the past months to know that. The girl was too important to them.

And when Iseldra had what her mistress wanted, they would die.

----------

Barret pushed aside the remains of his second Icicle burger with a sigh. The damn things were huge, a lunchtime favorite around here. At least he wasn't hungry anymore. Two half-pound patties stacked with the works had taken care of that. Marlene was busy polishing off her double decker grilled cheese sandwich and fries.

A glance at his watch told Barret it was half past four. It was time to be getting back, he thought. That odd feeling of disquiet hadn't left him, but so far nothing had happened. Lunch had come and gone without incident. Barret wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried, however. His old fighting instincts were rarely wrong.

"Marlene, you about done?" he asked. "We oughta head back to Tifa's pretty soon. A storm's comin' and I want you inside before it gets here."

She popped the last bit of sandwich into her mouth and nodded. "Yep! All set!"

"Alright, then, let's get goin'. Don't forget your coat, now."

Marlene stood and pulled on her thick winter coat, the blue one he'd gotten her for her birthday last year. Barret thought it looked a little small on her now, but then kids did grow so fast. It was getting harder and harder to keep up with her.

Slipping the bill and some cash under his empty beer mug, Barret shrugged on his own jacket and led Marlene outside. Flakes of snow drifted lazily down from the darkening skies, a gentle harbinger of what was to come, and a soft, chill breeze whispered through the air. The parking lot was divided into two halves with a wide central aisle down the middle, at the far end of which the Icicle Lodge was situated. It was down this aisle that Barret was taking Marlene when he suddenly realized that they were not alone.

A figure in a grey hooded cloak stood before them, less than ten meters away. It was a woman, to judge by the build. She stared at Marlene with flickering scarlet irises, a look Barret did not like at all. He narrowed his eyes and pushed Marlene behind him until she was quite fully shielded by his massive bulk.

"A useless gesture," the woman purred. She pulled back her hood to reveal a pale, wintry face framed with long curls of blue hair. "I will have the girl."

"Over my dead fuckin' body," Barret snarled. A goddamn Snow? Here?

She smiled and raised her arm. "If you insist."

Barret flew backwards, slamming into the ground as though some invisible fist had slugged him in the face. He scrambled to his feet, his mechanized arm reshaping itself into a high-powered gatling gun, and opened fire on the ice witch. Bullets punched through the air like a giant's typewriter, but the woman swept them aside as if they were little more than mosquitos or gnats.

She thrust one arm down, and the ground split open beneath Barret's feet with a thunderous crack. He fell again, but this time his enemy didn't allow him to get up. She thrust her fist into Barret's torso, an icy blow that ripped the wind out of him. He struggled to get to his feet, firing off a few more shots as he did so, but suddenly the woman was grabbing him by the neck and hoisting him up with a strength she should not have had. She threw him, and before he even knew what was happening, she hit him again. And again. Her blows came so fast, how could she move so fast? She was just a dark blur, and whenever Barret tried to shoot her or hit her he caught nothing but air.

Suddenly she was in front of him, her red eyes boring straight into his dark brown ones. A cruel smile twisted her lips. For a moment, her irises flickered from red to deep amber, the pupils narrowing to snakelike slits. It was there and then gone, but in that moment Barret realized he wasn't going to win this fight. Streamers of amber energy shot out from the woman's hands and scorched Barret's arms and chest. She seized his shoulders and sent that energy coursing right into his body.

Barret screamed. His gun-arm exploded as pain sizzled in every part of him. It was like feeling a hundred thousand volts of electricity running through his veins. Then he was hurtling into the snow, his skin smoking and numb and bleeding in a dozen places and his weapon arm ruined. He rolled around in the snow, knowing nothing in that moment but pain, until Marlene came running to him.

"Dad! Daddy!" she yelled.

Barret shook his head. "Get outta here, girl! Go find Tifa and Vince! Get Cloud! Tell—"

But he was never able to finish. A kick from the woman's boot into his ribs saw to that. He watched, groaning helplessly as she grabbed Marlene by the arm. The woman bent close, her face only inches from his, and smiled. What the hell was she? It didn't matter, she had his daughter, his little girl. What was she going to do with Marlene?

"She'll be safe," the woman purred. "So long as your friends do as I ask."

Barret frowned through gritted teeth. "What the goddamn hell do you mean?"

"Give Strife and Lockheart a message. They're to meet me at the base of Gaea's Cliff in three days. I'll have further instructions for them there."

"How do we know… you'll show?" Barret asked. "And that we'll… get Marlene… back safe?"

The woman sneered. "You don't. But you don't have much choice, either. If you want your daughter back, that is."

Suddenly, the wind picked up, tossing snow flurries in Barret's face. He swatted them aside, but more came to replace them until finally the wind died down. By the time he could see again, the woman was gone, and so was Marlene. Barret pulled himself to his feet and limped to the truck, dots of blood staining the snow as he went. He ignored the onlookers that had begun to gather in the wake of the attack. All that mattered now was getting Marlene back, but first he had to tell the others what had happened.

----------

"I do not see any alternative," Vincent cocked his gun, "than to meet as the ice maiden demands. But we do have one advantage."

Tifa paused in her treatment of Barret's wounds. "What's that?"

"Me," Vincent replied.

He was standing again by the front window, his weapon no longer holstered. Cerberus might yet feed again soon. The triple-barrelled handgun had seen its share of kills over the years and had proven a worthy supplement to his Death Penalty assault rifle. Both would no doubt prove useful in this mission.

"I don't think I understand," Tifa was saying. "How does that help us?"

It was Cloud who answered. "This woman's got this trap set up for you and me, Tifa. She doesn't know Vincent's here."

Vincent nodded. His friend's reasoning was sound. Surprise could work in their favor, as well as numbers. Theoretically, at least. But from what Barret had told them, this ice maiden was like no other that Vincent and his companions had ever encountered before. She had displayed powers no Snow should have possessed. She would be difficult to overcome, but perhaps Vincent's presence might help tip the balance.

Sitting on the living room sofa, Barret drank another potion from Tifa's first aid kit as she bandaged his wounds. Whoever this woman was, she had certainly proven herself a dangerous enemy. Vincent had fought alongside Barret enough times to know how powerful a fighter he was, and for him to be taken down so easily disturbed Vincent more than he cared to admit. And there was one other thing, too..

"Her powers," he murmured. "Where did she get them?"

Barret shrugged. "Damned if I know. Never seen a Snow that fought like that before. But enough of that, we gotta go save Marlene!"

"You're not going anywhere," Tifa ordered. She rose to her feet.

"Fuck that, Tif! That's my daughter she's got! The hell I ain't goin' with you!"

Cloud shook his head. "Tifa's right, Barret. Look at you. She's patched you up, but you're still not a hundred percent."

"And your weapon is useless," Vincent added. "There is no time to repair it."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do then?" Barret fumed, pacing the room like some huge grizzly bear. "Jes' hang around here an' do nothing?"

Cloud was already refastening his shoulder guard as he spoke. "No. After we leave, call Cid and have him get the _Sierra_ ready for launch. We may need a quick escape."

"Right, right. Anythin' else?"

"You should probably call the others too and let them know what's going on," Tifa added. "I don't think you'll be able to reach us once we get into the mountains, though. The reception's really bad up there, and the storm will only make it worse."

Barret sighed and nodded. "Alright, alright. But you better come back with Marlene."

"I intend to," Cloud replied.

While his friends finished their preparations to leave, Vincent checked his weapons again. He didn't want to run out of ammo way up there in the wilderness. Fortunately, both his guns were fully loaded, and there were several extra clips on his belt. It would have to be enough. With a sweep of his crimson cloak, he followed his companions outside.

Cloud and Tifa had donned some loose-fitting yet thick winter gear to keep out the cold. The garage was open, and Cloud was stowing his six swords into the _Fenrir's_ twin storage bays. Tifa had pulled on her black leather fighting gloves and was getting her own motorcycle ready to go. She nodded to Vincent as he approached.

"Here, take the _Blackbird,_ Vincent. I'm going to ride double with Cloud."

"You are sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's faster than a chocobo, at least up here in the mountains. Besides, Magus is probably tired after the long trip here."

Vincent conceded the point. His black-feathered chocobo was a faithful mount and would not have complained about the trek north to the crater, but Vincent knew better than to press the bird after they had already ridden so far. It would do no good to have his chocobo collapse from exhaustion halfway across the Great Glacier.

"As you wish," Vincent agreed.

He got on the bike and started it up, the purr of the engine cutting through the early evening stillness like a blade. How long had it been since he had last ridden one of these? Years, perhaps. Not since his days with the Turks and his adolescence in Wutai. That was another lifetime, now. A time long gone.

A muffled roar brought Vincent back to the present as Cloud started up the _Fenrir._ Tifa hopped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Barret went up to her, an odd expression on his face that Vincent couldn't quite read.

"Hey, uh, Tif… you sure you're goin'?" Barret asked.

Tifa blinked. "Of course. What are you talking about, Barret?"

"Well, you know… about, uh, this morning? Remember what you were tellin' me? Jes' promise me you'll be careful, awright?"

Tifa stared at him, comprehension dawning in her face at last. Although of what, Vincent could not say. Something had obviously passed between her and Barret, however, because she nodded slowly, her voice quiet when she spoke again. Or at least, as quiet as she could be with the motorcycle's engine roaring in the air.

"I will, Barret," she said. "I haven't forgotten."

Cloud glanced at her over his shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you later." She leaned close and brushed her lips across his cheek. "Let's go get Marlene back."

He nodded and gunned the engine, and _Fenrir_ roared down the road toward the north end of town and the wilderness beyond. Vincent followed on the _Blackbird,_ keeping his friends in sight. A thought flitted through his mind and was gone, an odd pang he couldn't quite identify. Loneliness, maybe? But what did he have to feel lonely about? He was used to being by himself. It had never bothered him before. Why now?

It didn't matter, Vincent decided. Still, a part of him would not have minded the presence of a companion, someone to slide her arms around his waist and ride with him, to fight at his side and watch his back as he would watch hers. But he had long ago given up on things like that. His penance was to walk the world alone.

Vincent and his friends rode into the night, taking the side trails down the northern slopes to bypass the snowboarding courses. Dark gray storm clouds hung overhead along the far northern horizon. Behind the western mountains, the sun slowly dipped out of sight, the day's last light casting the sky in shades of pink, red, and orange. To the east, a few stars were already beginning to come out.

Three days. A deadline Vincent had no intention of missing.

_Hold on, Marlene, _he thought. _We are coming._


	8. Harbingers

**Chapter 7  
Harbingers**

Ellone spun low and to the side, thrusting the bladestaff out before her to block the incoming strike. Squall's gunblade struck it with a clang, and he towered over her, pressing his weight down onto his weapon to force her to the ground. But she wouldn't give. Bracing her feet against the mat, Ellone gritted her teeth and shoved back.

She held out at first, her arms straining as she gripped her weapon in both hands and pressed it as hard as she could against Squall's relentless gunblade. But in the end his strength proved the better. Her leg gave out beneath her under the unyielding pressure, and as she fell to the ground the bladestaff tumbled from her fingers. Blue-white steel hovered over her heart.

"You win," Ellone panted.

Squall withdrew his gunblade and offered her his free hand. "Still, not bad. You can't expect to beat me _all_ the time."

"I guess not," Ellone smiled and let him help her to her feet, "but I can try."

She wiped a hand across her forehead, feeling the sweat beading on her skin. There was nothing like a good workout. Ellone had spent the last few hours training with Squall after helping Selphie with the flower arrangements in the quad for most of the afternoon. The trek into town with her and Irvine had been thankfully uneventful, much to Ellone's relief. There had been no repeat of yesterday's incident in the café.

The front of Ellone's green leotard was damp with perspiration, and inside her sweatpants her legs were coated with it. Squall was running her ragged, but she didn't mind. It felt good to come here to the dojo and fight for a while, to get her blood and adrenaline flowing and her heart pumping.

Her muscles were burning from exertion, but Ellone had found to her surprise that she was starting to enjoy these training sessions. It wasn't all that different from her aerobics, now that she thought about it. She had yet to engage in a real battle, though. Sparring with her brother could only teach her so much, and Ellone had discovered that she wanted to know more, to learn everything she could. Her life might well depend on it.

"Had enough?" Squall asked.

Ellone hefted the bladestaff. "Why don't we go to the training center? I think I can take on a few monsters, don't you?"

"Not yet. You handle your weapon well enough, but it's one thing to fight against me. Taking on something like a grat or a wendigo is totally different. Monsters aren't just trying to beat you. They're going for the kill. Remember that."

"So show me how to fight them," Ellone replied. "I want to learn."

Squall sheathed his gunblade. "Later. But before we get anywhere near the training center, we need to move on to the GF's. I take it you've never junctioned one before."

"No, I haven't. How does it work?"

Squall held his gloved hands out before him, palms up, and his eyes slid closed. Dressed in his usual black leather, his gray t-shirt sticky with sweat, he seemed to fall inside himself for a moment, his head tilting forward in concentration. His long mane of brown hair swished around his ears and shoulders with the motion.

As Ellone watched, wondering what her brother was doing, a pale sphere of glowing energy slowly shimmered into existence like a mirage. It hovered just above Squall's outstretched hands, pulsing like one of the will 'o wisps Ellone had once heard of in a story somewhere. Was this really a guardian force?

Squall opened his eyes, though he didn't move his hands. "This is a GF, Ellone. They let us use magic and give us strength."

"I don't understand," Ellone stared at the ball of light. What did he mean?

"Guardian forces are energy beings," Squall explained. "They normally don't take a physical form unless they're summoned, but there are a few exceptions. Ifrit and the Brothers, for example. Sometimes you have to beat a GF to get it to help you, and others you can draw from powerful monsters. But they're all useful."

Ellone had heard of guardian forces but never understood what they were. Even now, it was still a little hard. "How do they work?"

"You junction them. Basically, it means that you let the GF enter your mind. It's not like it's possessing you, though. You can separate at any time, and you can also communicate telepathically with the GF while it's junctioned to you. Some are more talkative than others. Cactuar never shuts up, while Bahamut hardly says a word."

"Which GF is that?" Ellone asked, pointing to the ball of energy.

Squall withdrew one hand, though he kept the other out, almost as though he were holding the sphere himself. "Shiva. She's a good GF for beginners. Ice is her element, so stick with cold spells if you want her to get along with you."

"Right," Ellone nodded. "What do I do?"

"Hold out your hand," Squall instructed, "and concentrate. Clear your mind, Sis. She'll take care of the rest."

Ellone stretched out her arm, palm up, and waited. Her blood tingled with excitement. This was the next step in her training. Ellone doubted she would ever become a SeeD, but at least she would be able to hold her own in battle. No more having to wait for someone else to save her. Now she would be able to save herself.

How many times had others risked their lives and more for her sake? Dozens of White SeeDs had died protecting her from Ultimecia's Galbadian lackeys during the war. Edea had sacrificed her sanity and her soul to keep Ellone's whereabouts hidden. Uncle Laguna had fought to save her from Dr. Odine and Sorceress Adel when she had been imprisoned in Esthar as a little girl. And Squall, he had fought for her during the war when Seifer and his followers had abducted her.

It wasn't fair. So many had done so much for her, more than she could ever hope to repay. Ellone had watched too many suffer for her sake over the years. It was because of her that the war had erupted in the first place. Her and her wretched powers. If not for them, Ellone might have had the chance to live the normal, everyday life she still longed for. Yet she was anything but normal. A freak, a monster. That's what she was. Maybe not on the outside, but deep down, Ellone knew the truth.

But now the hunted would be the hunter. Ellone wasn't going to allow anyone else to be hurt because of her, not if there was anything she could do about it. Even if her recent experiences were just stress and not some horror lurking in the shadows, Ellone was going to go forward with her training. She had to know how to protect herself. And to protect others, to return in whatever way she could what had been given, what had been sacrificed, in order to defend her over the years.

The sphere of energy that was Shiva floated away from Squall and settled over Ellone's hand, the air above her fingers crackling as the entity drew close. At a nod from Squall, Ellone drew the sphere toward herself, sliding her eyes closed and waiting for Shiva's presence to fill her mind.

Thunder exploded in Ellone's ears, pain erupting in white-hot flares of agony. She grabbed her temples, the bladestaff clattering to the ground as she doubled over. It felt as though someone had set off a bomb inside her skull. What was going on? An almost inhuman shriek of horrible pain reached her ears from some faraway place, and Ellone realized with a fright that it was her own. Then the dojo floor was rushing up to meet her.

Strong arms caught her before she could fall. Squall's voice somehow managed to reach her. "Ellone! What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I… I don't know…" she murmured. The room was spinning, and there were bright spots in her vision. The glowing sphere that was Shiva shot away to hover just over Squall's shoulder. Had the junction not worked? What was going on?

Hushed whispers filled the air. So many onlookers. Ellone had forgetten that she wasn't alone in here. The ringing in her ears was finally beginning to subside, but pain still filled her head. Her equilibrium hadn't quite come back yet, though. Ellone held onto Squall's arms as best she could to keep from falling.

"…get you to the infirmary," Squall was saying, but it seemed to Ellone that he was speaking from a great distance.

She could only manage a weak nod in response, and then her eyes were sliding shut before she was even aware of it. Somehow her knees had turned to jelly, and it was only her grip on Squall that kept her upright. But Ellone felt even that slipping away, it was all slipping away and she was falling, falling into shadow.

----------

"How is she?" Edea asked.

Squall sighed. "She's stable. For now, anyway. This is the second time in as many days that I've had to bring her here. I can't say I like it."

He sat, much as he had yesterday, next to Ellone's biobed in the Garden's infirmary. The monitors on the other side beeped regularly in time with his sister's pulse and heartbeat and displayed her biological patterns on the screens. It was a sight that Squall was beginning to hate. Much like the sight of Ellone lying unconscious on the sterile biobed.

What the hell was going on here? First a hellish vision and now this? Squall had never heard of anyone reacting to a guardian force's presence the way she had. He doubted it had been intentional, though. Ellone had done just as he had instructed. The junction should have gone smoothly, but it hadn't.

"What happened to her, Squall?" Edea whispered. She was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Ellone's hand in both of hers.

Squall rubbed at his scar. It was an old habit, but one he had never cared to break. "I'm not sure. Her mind must have rejected the junction."

"Strange," Edea pursed her lips. "But I cannot say I'm surprised."

"What do you mean?" Squall asked.

Headmaster Cid answered, his bespeckled gaze resting on Ellone's unmoving form as he stood behind his wife. "Her power, Squall. It stands to reason that it might have interfered if she tried to use a GF. And considering how strangely it's been acting lately, I think that assumption is warranted."

"You think her power's behind all this? I don't get it."

"Nor do I," Edea explained. "She came to me earlier today. We talked, and she mentioned that she felt she was losing control over her abilities, that they were changing somehow. Did your guardian sense anything when Ellone tried to junction with her?"

Squall nodded. "Shiva told me later that something was blocking her, almost like a barrier. But why? And what's happening to Ellone?"

"I am afraid I cannot say. But… she is not the only one who has had unusual experiences recently. I, too, have… seen things…"

"What things?" Squall asked. A dark suspicion was rising in his mind, one he did not like but which his instincts couldn't deny. But the pieces were still scattered. There wasn't enough yet to form the whole picture. What he could see, though, was anything but reassuring. Squall could only hope he was wrong.

Edea shook her head. "I wish to wait until Rinoa has returned before I explain. She is a sorceress, as I was, and although Ellone is not, she does possess great power. That is something all three of us have in common. Rinoa may have seen something as well, and if she has, it would be wise to hear her out."

"In fact," Cid went on, "it's probably best to wait until we can get everybody together. We all need to know what's going on."

Squall checked his watch. It was almost time. "Alright, we'll meet in the conference room at 07:00 tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Rinoa and Quistis' train is due in Timber in about half an hour. Matron, will you stay here with Ellone while I go meet them? I won't be long."

"Of course," she smiled. "Their train was delayed, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Selphie and Irvine were going to pick them up while they were out today with Ellone, but apparently the train had some engine trouble or something. So the girls had to wait for the next one. I suppose it could have been worse, though."

Edea nodded. "Days instead of hours. We have been fortunate."

Rising to his feet, Squall started to leave, tilting his head to the headmaster and his wife on his way out and casting a last glance at Ellone's unconscious form. Just as he reached the doorway, however, he paused. There was something he had to know, although he thought he already knew the answer. But he needed confirmation.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Matron, this… experience of yours. Did you see anyone? A woman? Dark hair, strange eyes?"

"No. But I heard her voice. She was whispering in my mind. And laughing."

Squall sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."

----------

Pain. It was still there, still pounding at her skull. Ellone wished it would stop. She wanted to fade back into the nothingness of sleep, but the pain wouldn't let her. It was mocking her, she realized. How was she supposed to fight without the power of the guardian forces to aid her? Yet at the same time, how could she let that stop her, now that her course was set? Squall hadn't given up during the war, had kept going in spite of the dangers and the obstacles in his way. If she were to move on with her life, to repay the debt she owed so many others, Ellone had to do no less.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing at the brightness of the fluorescent lights overhead. How long had she been out? Ellone was in the infirmary again, that much she could tell right away. Squall must have brought her here after she had collapsed. He wasn't here now, but someone else was. Another dear friend.

"Rinoa!" Ellone smiled, sitting up.

Her eyes warm and twinkling, Rinoa smiled back, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Ellone in a brief hug. "Hey, Ellone! It's so good to see you again!"

"You, too, but… what did you do to your hair?" Ellone wondered.

Rinoa's hair was, as always, long and luxuriously dark, accented with brown highlights. But now it was curly, hanging in coiled locks over her shoulders. When had she done that? Her clothes were her usual blue and black, a pair of shorts and a sleeveless top, and a silvery lion's head earring dangled from each ear.

"Do you like it?" Rinoa tossed it playfully behind her ears. "I had it done while Quistis and I were in Deling City."

Ellone nodded. "It's great! What does Squall think?"

"He's still trying to get over the shock, I think," Rinoa giggled. "You know how he is. But I'm sure he likes it."

"Where is he, by the way? I thought he would be here with you."

Rinoa shrugged. "Cid called him up to the bridge a little while ago. It's late, but they had some things to talk about. SeeD business, you know."

"I see," Ellone replied. A pensive frown crossed her face. "Are we moving?"

Ellone was resting one hand on the bedside rail, the cool metal refreshing to her skin. Beneath her fingers, she thought she could just make out a faint vibration running through the curved steel. It might have been nothing, just her imagination, but Ellone was curious nonetheless. She swung her legs out over the edge of the bed and touched her bare feet to the floor. Sure enough, the vibration was there, too.

"Yeah, we're on our way to Trabia," Rinoa answered. "Squall gave the order as soon as we got back. How did you know?"

"The vibrations. You don't feel them?" Ellone asked.

Rinoa shook her head. "No. The inertial thingies the FH guys put in are supposed to make it so people can't tell when we're moving. But… you can feel it?"

"Yeah. I don't know how, but I can. Um, by the way… how long have I been out?"

"Almost three hours, I think," Rinoa answered.

Ellone stared unbelievingly at her friend. "That long? But then, it had to be. You're here, after all. How did the trip go?"

"It wasn't easy, but me and Quistis managed to get my fa—I mean, _that man_—elected. It won't be official for another couple weeks, and there are a lot of grumpy senators that aren't too happy about it, but it's done."

"Congratulations, Rinoa," Ellone smiled. "You guys did it! I'm sure Squall and Headmaster Cid are very proud."

Rinoa laughed. "Thanks. Cid is such a sweet man, he said as much at our debriefing earlier. As for Squall, well you know him. But I can tell how he feels."

That was true enough. Though she had only been back in her brother's life for the last three years, Ellone had come to learn a great deal about him. Squall wasn't overly expressive, but there were times when just the set of his shoulders or the look in his eyes would be enough to tell Ellone what was on his mind. She enjoyed the close relationship she had with him, though even he knew her less than he thought he did.

Rinoa had helped Squall open up again, helped him trust others and reach out to others and allow them into his life. It was something that Ellone wished she could have done for him herself. It should have been her. She was the one who had driven Squall into his dark shell in the first place. How often had she told herself she should never have left him that day, alone in the orphanage? But there had been no time for goodbyes. No time to explain why she had to go. Not only for her protection, but for his as well. At least, that was what Ellone had always told herself.

"Ellone, are you alright?" Rinoa was tugging on her arm.

"What?" Ellone blinked. "Oh, sorry about that. I must have wandered off."

Rinoa brushed it aside. "It's okay. I heard you've had a rough time lately. Squall mentioned it for a moment, but he wouldn't say much."

"It's been… unusual, to say the least," Ellone agreed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Rinoa nodded.

Ellone took a breath, then slowly let it out. "Have you… have you had any, um… strange experiences lately? Things you couldn't explain?"

Though she had asked the question, Ellone wasn't sure what answer she hoped for. Neither one would make her rest any easier. But she had to know. If anyone else had seen anything out of the ordinary, it would have been Rinoa. She was a sorceress, imbued with mystic powers all her own. If something dark was indeed happening, Ellone was sure that Rinoa would also be drawn into it, knowingly or not.

"Yes, I… Hyne, help me… I have," Rinoa shuddered.

----------

The sun had long since dipped beneath the grassy horizon west of Winhill by the time he appeared, just another of the town's evening shadows. Only this one moved. Hooded and silent, his feathered black wings wrapped around him like a cloak, he waited. His mistress, the one who had called him back to this world, to this plane of existence, had not needed to tell him where to go. He could still sense the presence of their own kind, their all but dead race. The one he sought dwelt here, or did some time ago.

Time. Strange, to think of such a thing in the same breath as his quarry. Time, or rather the manipulation of it, had been her specialty. Her unique ability. Or perhaps, not quite so unique as she believed. What would she think, the hooded one pondered, if she knew from whence her talents came? The bloodline from which her power flowed?

But such musings were irrelevant. The winged hunter, the outcast once known by his people as Sa'miel, wasted no further time on such pointless speculation. He knew his orders, what the lady Gravheine had commanded. She had called to him, forced the raging torrents of the lifestream to give him substance and form, and for one purpose—to kill the last of their kind. The only one who could stop their Queen's rebirth.

Sa'miel doubted the girl even knew what she was. Nevertheless her lineage, though diluted by many human ancestors, still held true. The power, sleeping from generation to generation until its time was needed, was beginning to awaken. The last defense of her people against a darkness that had all but destroyed them.

Now, with only one of his Queen's hated enemies left, Sa'miel had arisen to do the bidding of the one who sent him. He had been chosen because he was the best at what he did. Death was his power, killing his talent. Sa'miel had perfected the art long before his exile. It would be good to put his skills to use once more.

Humans were such fragile things, after all.

He waited, just another shadow among shadows. Sa'miel watched from the dark space between two buildings. Houses, they were. One belonged to his quarry. It was vacant, as his search earlier had already confirmed. But she had not left long ago. All he had to know was where she had gone. And that was what the young woman walking toward the other house was going to tell him.

A chill breeze swept through the plaza, and in its wake the streetlamps gutted out one after the other like candles. The woman, blond and blue-eyed, little more than a girl herself, looked around uneasily. In another life, Sa'miel might have found her attractive. But he was beyond such things now, so much more than the mere man he had once been long ago. The flesh was irrelevant save in death.

Though she could not see him, Sa'miel had no difficulty seeing her. Darkness did not hinder his vision, but rather enhanced it. He made no sound, the flow of his movements as quiet as the grave. So it was quite a shock to the woman to find a jagged blade of cold steel pressing against her neck seemingly from out of nowhere. Sa'miel was behind her, his arms holding her in place with almost inhuman strength as he dragged her away beneath the eaves of her own house.

"Where is she?" he whispered.

"W-Who?"

His voice was a cruel, icy presence in her ear. "Loire. Your friend. She is not here. Where has she gone?"

"I don't know! I s-swear it!"

"You lie…" Sa'miel pressed the blade harder against her skin.

"T-T-Timber! And then t-to Trabia! On the G-G-Garden!"

Good. He would find his quarry there. Trabia it was, then. Sa'miel could wait. Patience was another of his talents. Best to let the prey come to you, unknowing and unprepared. The better to make the kill. He would take his time with her, though. She was of a special breed, and it had been long since he had slain one of her kind. The blood of her race had a particular sweetness to it. Sa'miel desired to feel it on his lips once more.

In the meantime, however, lesser blood would do.

Sa'miel drew the edge of the blade across the woman's throat in a single, vicious cut while at the same time snapping her neck with his free hand to silence her last gurgling cry. Her body went limp in his arms, her eyes frozen in shock as moisture wet his fingers. Blood, the first he had spilled since his return. And it would not be the last.

In the sheltering darkness, Sa'miel unfurled his feathered wings and wrapped them around himself and his burden, the body of his first sacrifice. She would not be found for many days. Or at least, what remained of her. But she _would_ be found. He would see to that. There was one thing left for Sa'miel to do before he departed, one message he would leave behind for his quarry to discover.

Death was coming. Coming for her.


	9. Pursuit

**Chapter 8  
****Pursuit**

They didn't stop until dawn. The sun was just peeking over the mountains to the east by the time Vincent pulled his bike to a halt beside Cloud and Tifa. The three of them had ridden all night, taking only one brief rest a few hours before sunrise. Though his body ached from sitting on the motorcycle for so long, Vincent said nothing.

He killed the engine, cutting off the muffled roar of _Blackbird_'s motor in mid-snarl, and leaned the bike against a nearby tree while Cloud shut down _Fenrir._ The silence left in its wake was as eerie as it was sudden. It was broken only by the soft whisper of the wind ruffling the pines. Smells of moss and evergreen hung in the air, and everywhere Vincent looked he saw firs and spruces towering overhead.

His boots crunching in the snow, Vincent circled the campsite, noting the dense shrubbery and closeness of the trees to one another. It would have to do. He would have preferred a far more defensible location, a cave perhaps, but this was the best that he and Cloud had been able to find. They had ridden right into the middle of the sprawling forest that stretched from the base of Icicle Inn's snowboarding trails to the southern regions of the Great Glacier, still another day's journey farther north.

The woods were larger than he remembered, and Vincent guessed that over the years nature had reclaimed many of the old paths and logging trails. During the descent from Icicle, he had raised an eyebrow at the sheer vastness of it. With fewer travelers to make roads and villages this far north, the trees had spread out across virtually the entire southern rim of the glacier.

"Do you think they're still after us?" Tifa scanned the edges of the clearing.

Vincent paused in his inspection of the perimeter. "We should assume so. Snow leopards do not give up the hunt so easily."

"And they're damned fast, too," Cloud added. "You saw that, Tif."

She nodded. "Do you think she sent them?"

Vincent didn't need to ask who Tifa was talking about. "Perhaps. To test us. To assess our strength. But they also have purposes of their own."

The huge, white-furred cats had been trailing them for some time, flitting in and out of sight amidst the trees and launching themselves time and again at Vincent and his companions as they had sped northward through the forest. So far it had been hit and run, just a few rabid leaps here and there to catch them off guard, but Vincent knew it was only a matter of time before the leopards attacked in force.

As he finished his circuit of the campsite, Vincent pulled out Cerberus and flipped open the chamber. After reloading his weapon, he did the same for the Death Penalty. The powerful assault rifle that was Lucrecia's last gift to him had proven its worth time and again over the years, even after he had acquired the triple-barrelled Cerberus handgun. Both had already seen their share of kills on this journey, and Vincent didn't doubt that they would see more. The snow leopards were persistent hunters.

"Anything we can use for kindling?" Cloud asked.

Vincent shook his head. "There is wood, but much of it is wet. It may not be possible to build a fire with it."

"We've got our materia, remember?" Tifa reminded them.

"Right," Cloud nodded. "Even wet, the wood ought to burn once we cast a few fire spells on it. Spread out, everyone. See what you can find."

It wasn't long before Vincent and the others had gathered up enough twigs, fallen branches, and sticks to use for the fire. Vincent separated a few of the shorter and sturdier branches for use as torches. Most animals and monsters, particularly those of this frigid region, had little love for fire, and the snow leopards were no exception. A few burning brands would at least give them pause.

Cloud crouched in front of the firepit, which he'd lined with a few moss-covered rocks. Raising his arm in front of him, he slid his eyes closed and lost himself in the concentration Vincent knew from experience was necessary to the casting of magic spells. The materia orb embedded in Cloud's bracer glowed bright green for a moment, then suddenly flickered and died. A tiny sputter of flame licked at the wood, but that was all.

"What the hell…?" Cloud blinked.

"Try it again," Tifa urged.

He did so, but with no better result. After a half dozen or so such attempts, however, the spell finally went through. Blazing tongues of flame roared up, feeding hungrily on the wood and adding a measure of warmth to the clearing. Sitting next to his sword, which he'd driven point-first into the ground, Cloud sighed and held his hands out toward the fire while Tifa sifted through her pack.

"Strange," she murmured, "but unfortunately this isn't the first time our materia's done that. I wish I knew why."

So did Vincent. "Mine has done the same."

"Did it start recently?" Cloud asked.

"Yes. No more than a few days ago. Their behavior grows increasingly erratic."

Tifa held a handful of the enchanted orbs in her palm, nudging one or the other and gazing at the rainbow of color. Blues, violets, greens, yellows, and reds. Yet somehow their glow seemed weak, sometimes bright and sometimes faint and shifting at random between the two. A few held no light at all but sat dead and dark in her grasp.

"Can we risk using them like this in a fight?" Tifa worried. "Lighting a fire is one thing, but trying to use that same spell against one of those leopards, well… I'm just not as sure about the materia as I used to be."

"We may have no choice," Vincent pointed out.

Cloud nodded. "It may come to that. But let's try to avoid using them in battle if we can. We just don't know what'll happen if we do."

"As you wish. But it may prove difficult."

"We'll just have to be careful, then," Tifa replied. She put the materia away and started looking through her pack again. "Enough of that. Let's eat and then get some sleep. We've still got a long way to go."

Being no strangers to long journeys in the wilderness, Vincent and the others had brought with them bedrolls and enough food to last a week, perhaps a little more. There had not been time for anything else. Three days to the cliff and three days back, if all went well. Vincent did not care to think of the alternative.

After finishing a sparse breakfast, Vincent sat with his back against a nearby tree and wrapped his crimson cloak more closely about him. Though he felt the cold less than his companions, it still bit at his flesh nonetheless. Vincent rested Cerberus across his thighs as streamers of pale winter sunshine filtered down through the treetops. The smell of evergreens teased his nose.

Cloud and Tifa had spread out their bedrolls next to the fire, and Vincent saw without much surprise that Cloud's was next to the sword he'd impaled into the frozen ground. Tifa, however, didn't need any weapons other than her fists and feet. Vincent had fought at her side enough over the years to know that.

"We'll leave just after sunset," Cloud said. "That's about twelve hours. Assuming the leopards don't cut it short."

"I will take the first watch," Vincent replied.

Cloud nodded. "Four hours, then wake me. Tif, you have the last watch."

"Got it. Night, Cloud. Night, Vincent."

Within moments, Tifa and Cloud had curled themselves up in their bedrolls, leaving Vincent to his silent vigil. It wasn't the first time he had stood guard over slumbering friends. He reached into his cloak, withdrew a small block of wood and a knife, and started to carve. It was something he'd picked up over the past few years, one of the few things he was able to to take some amount of pleasure in these days. With his mind focused only on shaping the wood and releasing what was hidden inside, Vincent was able to forget for a while the emptiness of his solitude.

Though he had come to forgive himself at last for his inability to save Lucrecia so long ago, Vincent knew that it would not change the nature of his existence. He had accepted his fate. He had his friends, good friends, but he could only allow them to come so near. No one else could walk this path with him, though sometimes Vincent wished it were otherwise. It would be good to be close to someone again. But what if he failed as he had before? That pain, that ache of loss, was something Vincent did not want to experience again.

----------

He woke some six hours later to an urgent shove on his shoulder. Vincent blinked open his eyes and sat up, noting Cloud's grim expression and not needing any explanation. The bestial, feline eyes surrounding the campsite just outside the warmth of the fire confirmed what Vincent already suspected.

He rose to his feet, his gaze never leaving those eyes. Though he'd had a mere two hours of sleep, Vincent ignored his fatigue. He had gone with as little rest before. Sometimes his altered body did have its uses, after all. Cerberus was already in his grasp even as he curled his finger around the trigger. Vincent hadn't dared let go of it, even asleep. Cloud held his sword before him, and Tifa was crouching in a ready stance, gloved fists raised.

The leopards made the first move, leaping into the clearing with their huge teeth bared and their claws unsheathed. Vincent sidestepped and fired, catching the nearest of the monsters right in the chest. Another shot and it fell dead at his feet. More followed in its wake, though. There seemed to be dozens of the things.

Vincent rolled, picking up the Death Penalty from off the ground, and fired both guns even as he was still getting back to his feet. Two different leopards fell lifeless to the snow. Nearby, Cloud was hacking away at them with his huge sword, cutting and slashing for all he was worth. One of the cats leapt at his back but dropped dead a moment later, riddled with bullets. Cloud nodded in Vincent's direction and went back to work.

A glance to his right told Vincent that Tifa was holding her own, at least for the moment. She pummeled one of the leopards with a vicious right cross followed by a series of bone-breaking punches that shattered its jaw and crushed an eye. No sooner had it fallen aside than a swift roundhouse kick sent another one crashing into the trees. Her fists and feet flying, Tifa was a blur of motion, darting here and there around the clearing so quickly it was hard to keep up with her.

Vincent leapt, somersaulting in midair and shooting at two cats that were coming at him from opposite directions. They were dead before they hit the ground. Another rushed him from the side as he landed, but Vincent was faster. He whipped around, shoved the barrels of both guns into the snow leopard's gaping maw, and fired. Its skull exploded, staining the snow with blood and gore.

The ground was littered with the dead, but more of the beasts kept pouring into the clearing from all sides. Vincent fired round after round, but for every leopard he killed, another seemed to take its place. He and Cloud and Tifa were skilled fighters, to be sure, but in this situation it would only buy them time. Not even they could stand against so many enemies for long. Sheer force of numbers would eventually overwhelm them.

An anguished cry jolted Vincent around, and with a sense of dread he saw his reasoning was well-founded. One of the leopards had managed to rip a gash in Tifa's leg, and with her slowed pace she could no longer keep ahead of them. The scent of her blood was driving them into a frenzy as well. She was fighting them off as best she could, but there were too many. Another sank its teeth into her shoulder from behind.

Vincent shot as many of the monsters off of her as he could even as he struggled to reach her. But more of the leopards were in his way at point-blank range. Shouldering the Death Penalty, Vincent swiped at the beasts with his own claw while continuing to fire with Cerberus. His bronze talons raked through their flesh more easily than he had anticipated, and as he dove past the fire he took one of his torches and hurled it into the leopards' midst. Flames ate hungrily at fur and flesh, leaping from monster to monster like a living thing. Roars turned to whines, but Vincent was beyond caring.

Cloud reached Tifa first, but Vincent was only a step behind. She was fighting off half a dozen leopards that had backed her against a tree, but her wounds were clearly slowing her. Vincent didn't waste a moment. He shot one of the beasts and ripped the throat out of another even as Cloud was hacking the rest apart. Neither was he unscathed either. Blood ran down his arm in rivulets.

"Tifa!" Cloud caught her in his arms.

She shook herself free. "I'll be alright, it's not as bad as it looks. But we can't stay here. There's too many of them!"

"She is right," Vincent agreed. "We must go."

Cloud held his bloodstained sword before him as more of the leopards came at them. One of them, a particularly large one with a streak of gray down its back, stopped a few yards away and opened its mouth. Vincent staggered as a wave of icy cold slammed into him and the others. His fingers went momentarily numb, the cold so intense it shot waves of pain through his body. Drawing upon the enhanced strength of his altered body, Vincent forced himself to move. He shot the beast between the eyes.

The other leopards faltered for a moment. That was all Vincent and the others needed. They ran for the bikes as fast as they could, Cloud with his arm around Tifa's shoulder to help her keep up. _Fenrir_ and _Blackbird_ waited a mere dozen or so yards away, tantalizingly close, yet the monsters recovered more quickly than Vincent had anticipated. They would be on them in seconds, unless…

"Hurry!" he ordered, stopping and whirling around to face back the way they had come. "Get out of here! Now!"

Cloud leapt onto _Fenrir_ and gunned it to life. "We're not leaving you behind!"

"Vincent, come on!" Tifa yelled, joining Cloud on the bike.

Fools. Stubborn fools. But they were his friends. Vincent could not have asked for better. "Go! I will catch up with you later!"

The leopards were on him by then, but _Fenrir_ was already speeding away into the forest. Vincent shot and clawed monster after monster as they came at him. The rage and bloodlust were building inside him, waiting for release. The true power of this cursed body. The power of Jenova. Vincent knew it well. It was all he could do to keep it under control now, and soon the beast within would emerge.

A moment later, it did.

Cerberus fell from Vincent's hands as a primal roar issued from his lungs. He doubled over, his body rippling and growing in seconds, his skin darkening to deep black. Leathery wings sprouted from his back, and his hair shriveled and fell away. Vincent's eyes shifted to a fiery red, and his arms and legs thickened with muscle, the prosthetics disappearing under the mutant flesh in a midst of clawed hands and feet. A pair of curving horns erupted from Vincent's forehead as he rose into the air to hover just above the ground.

Chaos had awoken once more.

----------

Tifa held on tight as Cloud sped through the forest, weaving and dodging his way through the trees. Several of the leopards were in pursuit, running along on either side or just behind them. Her wounds ached and throbbed, but Tifa couldn't worry about that now. Simply staying alive was all that mattered. She kicked with her good leg at a cat that had gotten too close. It rolled away into the underbrush, its ribs crushed.

In front of her, Cloud was busy driving the motorcycle with one hand while still holding his sword in the other. He slashed at any of the monsters that came in range, cleaving one in two and skewering yet another. Tifa looked up as she heard a roar from behind her. She twisted around, ignoring the searing flashes of pain that shot from her shoulder, and slammed her fist full into the face of another leopard, catching it in midleap. It flew back into the trees with a crash.

There were still about four of the cats left as Tifa faced forward again. A vicious backhand punch shattered the neck of one, but before Tifa could do anything else two others leapt onto her back and dragged her from the bike. She tumbled with a startled cry into the snow, scrambling to her feet even as the three remaining leopards closed in.

Tifa caught one in midair and slammed it into the ground. It didn't get up. A flurry of punches and a high, flying kick broke the neck of another. But an explosion of fresh pain in her leg and shoulder drove her to her knees. Tifa struggled to get up, but something clawed and heavy and snarling crashed into her side and she was lying in the snow again, a leopard's hot breath in her ear.

Pain ripped through her side as Tifa felt the thing's talons digging into her flesh. She cried out in agony even as she fought to shove the leopard away. But it was too heavy, and her blows were becoming more and more sluggish as her blood leaked out of her. The beast's claws scratched lines of red down the side of her cheek, and its huge fangs were only inches from her throat, but suddenly another roar, quite different, reached Tifa's ears.

It was Cloud.

The weight bearing down on Tifa's body abruptly lessened as the leopard whipped around to meet the new threat. But a sharp, silvery object was already hurling toward it. Cloud's sword caught the monster right in the chest, threw it through the air, and impaled it against the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Tifa!" Cloud stopped the bike and leaped off.

Though pain still wracked her body, Tifa somehow managed to sit up. Was it over? She hoped so. It was oddly quiet in the wake of the battle. The only sounds Tifa could hear were the wind in the trees and her own labored breathing. Then Cloud was there, stuffing some of his potions in her hand.

Tifa drank one, its clear sweetness numbing the pain. "Thanks. But shouldn't we get going? More of those things might show up."

"I think it's safe to rest for a moment," Cloud sat down with her. "And you're not going anywhere just yet, anyway. Let me see where they got you."

Tifa knew better than to argue. Although the potion was doing its work, knitting the torn flesh and tissue back together, it could only do so much. Her body would be tender and sore for days, and there was always a chance the wounds could reopen. Magical healing was a temporary measure at best, but it did have its uses.

A light snow was starting to fall as Cloud retrieved his first aid kit from one of the twin storage compartments built into his motorcycle. Tifa always made sure he never left for his patrols without it. He was at her side a moment later, pressing a clean cloth against her side. Tifa winced at the sting of iodine but said nothing. Instead she drank another potion as Cloud first tended her wounds, then his.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little. Enough to move on, I suppose. But something's bothering me. Big cats like that aren't usually so aggressive, are they?"

Cloud shrugged. "Not normal ones, no. But snow leopards are more monster than animal. Smarter and meaner. I've never seen so many of them, though."

"We probably have our icy friend to thank for that," Tifa pointed out.

"No doubt. But I don't care if I have to cut my way through a hundred of 'em, I'm going to get Marlene back."

Tifa smiled and kissed him. "I know."

She rose to her feet, feeling her strength beginning to return. Her body didn't hurt quite so much now, though there was a dull ache even the potions couldn't subdue. Where the leopards had clawed and bitten her, the skin was fresh and pink, the blood wiped away. But Tifa knew she had to be careful. A sudden thought stopped her as she was about to head back to the bike. She felt her abdomen, swallowing in apprehension, but the leopard's claws hadn't reached that far. Her baby was safe.

"Something wrong?" Cloud asked, joining her.

Tifa dropped her hands to her sides. "No, nothing. Let's go."

While Cloud went over to retrieve his sword, Tifa slid onto _Fenrir_ and cast uneasy glances at the trees. Were more of those leopards waiting for them in there? What else was the ice witch going to throw at them? Tifa hoped Vincent was alright. He knew how to take care of himself, but still Tifa worried. She didn't like leaving her friends behind.

Cloud got on the bike in front of her and gunned the engine, its thrumming roar shattering the stillness as he and Tifa sped off. Trees flew past them on either side, blurs of green and brown that were gone as soon as they came into view. The ground sloped downward, the grade growing less steep as they went on as bits of pale afternoon sunlight poked through the thick gray clouds massing overhead.

It wasn't until dusk that the trees began to thin as the edge of the forest drew near. The first stars were just starting to come out by the time Tifa and Cloud finally broke free and sped out onto the snowy, rock-strewn expanse of the Great Glacier. They turned east and drove along the lower slopes until the ground starting rising up again ahead of them. Loose copses of firs and pines dotted the mountainside, and it was in one such place that Cloud brought _Fenrir_ to a halt.

"We'll stop here," he said, his breath steaming in the air.

The clearing was not unlike their previous campsite, although the ground was steeper and the trees were a little farther apart. But a cluster of them huddled together at one end, almost as though for warmth, and it was under their boughs and upon the relatively clean ground beneath them that Tifa and Cloud set up their meager camp.

She looked into the bike's storage bays again. "Damn. We left most of our stuff behind when the leopards attacked us."

"What have we got?"

"Not much. Just your first aid kit, weapons, and a little food that wasn't in our packs. Must've been here from earlier."

Cloud nodded. "Holzoff's cabin is only about a day and half from here. As long as the weather holds, we'll make it."

"Are you sure?" Tifa wondered. "What about a fire? We need some warmth or we'll freeze in the night."

"Looks like we'll have to risk using our materia again."

Tifa got up and brushed herself off. "Then we ought to go find some wood."

It wasn't long before she and Cloud returned to the clearing with an armful each of fallen wood that they'd scavenged. Cloud lit it with the fire materia, although it took a few tries before the spell finally flared to life. Dancing tongues of flame licked at the kindling, and Tifa huddled near it, tired of the cold and anxious to feel her blood flowing again. It felt as though the icy weather had frozen it solid.

She smiled as Cloud pulled her close to him and wrapped an arm gently around her shoulder. The warmth from his body started flowing into her as Tifa lay with him against a fallen tree. It was a rough bed, to be sure, but Tifa had slept on worse during her old adventuring days. All that mattered was that Cloud was there with her. Everything was going to be alright. Cloud would make sure of it.

"Go to sleep, Tif," he urged her. "I'll keep watch for a while."

She snuggled closer to him. "Alright. Wake me when you're ready to nod off. I'll keep you safe and sound."

"I don't doubt it," Cloud flashed her one of his rare smiles.

Though her body still ached all over, Tifa felt herself drifting off into sleep. She didn't fight it, knowing well enough that this might be one of the last bits of quiet that she and Cloud would have for some time. There was no telling what would happen when they finally met up with the ice witch two days from now. Tifa swore to herself that she would be ready. She had to be. Marlene was depending on her.

----------

A strange quiet hung in the air as Vincent looked up. How long had it been? The feeble rays of sunlight that managed to find their way down through the snow-laden boughs of the pines spoke of the waning of the day. The shadows in the trees were deeper than he remembered, longer and somehow more ominous. Nightfall was not so far off. But where had the time gone?

Vincent looked at himself, at the human form to which his body had reverted. How long had Chaos raged? Hours, at least, by the look of the sky. It was uncommon for the inner beast to surface for so long, but not unheard of. Vincent recalled little save images of combat, white-furred bodies flying around like him so many broken toys and claws raking bloody trails into the mutated flesh of his arms and back.

The body of his inner beast was far stronger than his own, however. It healed quickly. Thus it was that though the pain of his wounds still burned within him, the scars themselves were nowhere to be seen. Vincent rolled up the sleeve of his good arm but saw only unmarked skin, albeit raw and tender. He pulled his sleeve down again and looked around at the clearing, understanding at last the odd silence which blanketed it.

All the leopards were dead. Bodies lay everywhere, half covered in the snow that was falling lightly from the darkening skies. Blood stained the ground in frozen splashes of dark red. What little gear Vincent and the others had brought with them had been trampled over and torn apart in the attack. The bedrolls had been shredded, the packs clawed open and their contents scattered, and the fire had long since gone out.

Vincent retrieved his guns from where he had dropped them. The battle with the leopards had forced him to use more ammo than he would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. He reloaded Cerberus and the Death Penalty with the last of his extra clips and headed over to where the _Blackbird_ still leaned against the trunk of the towering, snow-covered spruce next to which he had left it. As he neared the motorcycle, however, Vincent stopped, the fingers of his good hand tightening on Cerberus' trigger.

The falling snow had softened the hard, trenchlike trail left by _Fenrir_'s tires during Cloud and Tifa's escape, but in that fresh snow were other tracks, recent ones. Leopard prints. Not those of their original pursuers, whose faded prints were slowly being buried under the drifts of whiteness. The new tracks could not have been more than an hour or so old, and they went off in the same direction as _Fenrir._

Cloud and Tifa were going to have some unexpected visitors.

Brushing snow from the _Blackbird_'s seat, Vincent leapt on and gunned the motorcycle's engine, its roar shattering the stillness of the clearing. He sped off, not sure how far ahead his friends had gotten but certain they knew nothing of their new pursuers. Vincent doubted he would make the rendezvous with the ice witch now, but he could still give Cloud and Tifa the time they needed to get there.

A low, distant rumble to the northwest caught his attention, and in between the branches of the pines flying past overhead, Vincent saw in the darkening skies a mass of roiling storm clouds billowing from the northwest across the glacier. It was coming, sooner than he'd anticipated. The blizzard would be here by tomorrow night for certain.

If Cloud and Tifa had broken free of the woods by now, the storm would catch them before they reached the cliffs. Was this yet another of the witch's challenges? Or just a random act of nature? Vincent cared little either way. What mattered was the chilly vise into which his friends had just walked. There was nothing he could do about the storm, but the leopards were another matter.

The hunters would become the hunted.


	10. Snowbound

**Chapter 9  
****Snowbound**

"_Voiceprint not on file. Access denied."_

"Oh, darn it all…"

Ellone sighed. She ought to have known it wouldn't have been as simple as just walking up to the doors and saying she wanted in. As Squall had told her before, access to the training center was restricted to qualified Garden personnel only. But still, Ellone had wanted to try, even if she hadn't exactly told Squall what she was doing.

The things Rinoa had told her and the others this morning after her arrival yesterday evening disturbed Ellone more than she cared to admit. Visions of the future, or a possible future. One that Ellone hoped would never come to pass. She could still hear Rinoa's words in her mind as she had described it.

"_It was so dark… everywhere… I could hear laughter, a woman's laughter. It was soft and so cruel, and it was all around me. There were… there were bodies on the ground, people I knew, people… people I loved. All of you, and… and others. There were bites on them, and... there were snakes, black snakes, all over them…"_

It was horrible, and Ellone hadn't needed to guess at the meaning behind the symbolism of the vision. She had seen one of the snakes herself just a few days before in a vision of her own. They were of the woman somehow, the robed figure whose terrible eyes had haunted Ellone both in sleep and waking for the past few weeks. But Rinoa's experience hadn't ended there.

"_Then I… I saw my own body, bitten and dead like the others. A voice was inside my head. Her voice, the woman's voice. She said… she said that soon, she would feed again… something about the planet… knowing its true nature …"_

There was one last thing after that, something that had sent shivers of dread racing down Ellone's spine. Uncle Laguna, who'd arrived with Kiros and Ward on the Ragnarok that same morning and had attended the meeting with her and the others, had put a hand on her shoulder as Rinoa had concluded her tale, but not even his reassuring presence had been able to dispel the chill in her blood.

"_She said… the Coven's power can no longer save us… that she'll feed on all who stand in her way. Especially you, Ellone. She… she didn't say your name, but… I could tell it was you she meant. She wants you dead. I don't know why. But… she fears you, something about you. Your power, maybe? I wish I knew more. One of the snakes bit my leg and I felt fire burning inside me, poison filling my blood. I… I shrieked, jerked away, and then… everything was gone. It was over…"_

But it wasn't. Not yet. Not for Ellone, anyway. This nightmare wouldn't be over until she found this woman and dealt with her. But so far her unseen stalker had kept to the shadows, biding her time. The dreams hadn't troubled Ellone for the past few days, but whether that was from Dr. Kadowaki's sedatives or because the robed woman was planning something else for her, she couldn't say.

Ellone had come here to the training center as soon as she had returned from the wedding rehearsal in Trabia Garden's modest chapel. She had stopped first at her quarters to change and get her bladestaff, which hung on her back in the leather harness Zell had made for her yesterday. But it looked like she would have to settle for the dojo again after all. Ellone sighed and was walking away when another possibility froze her in midstep.

It was obvious, of course. So much so that she ought to have seen it earlier. But even so, it made Ellone nervous just thinking about it. If she couldn't do any live training _inside_ the Garden, she could always go _outside._ The snowfields in this part of Trabia stretched for miles in all directions before running into a rough semicircle of frigid mountain peaks. On a chocobo, Ellone could cover quite a fair distance and be back before nightfall. No one would even know she was gone.

Squall and Uncle Laguna would have a fit if they knew she was even considering the idea, but Ellone wasn't planning on telling them. Trabia Garden kept a small stable of tamed chobobos for outdoor training exercises. They were also more useful in this region than cars for traveling overland given the rougher terrain and the lack of roads.

Making another brief stop at her quarters, Ellone changed into some warmer clothes and threw on the white winter coat and gloves Squall had given her during the holidays last year. Winhill's winters might not have been quite as frigid as Trabia's, but they were cold enough, to be sure. Ellone slipped the bladestaff in its harness onto her shoulders, tugged on a pair of thick black boots, and pulled her short hair into a ponytail.

The late afternoon sun was already beginning its descent low over the western rim of the mountains by the time Ellone stepped outside Balamb Garden's main entrance and walked the half mile or so to the smaller Trabia compound. Her boots crunched in the snow, and the wind bit at her cheeks until they were the color of roses. To the east, a line of dark clouds blotted out the horizon.

Ellone wasn't entirely surprised to find a familiar face in the chocobo pens. Giggles, coppery hair, and bright emerald eyes greeted Ellone as she entered the paddock. Selphie was cooing to one of the chocobos, stroking its yellow feathers and feeding it some greens as she brushed it down. She turned at the sound of Ellone's approach and grinned, her small body nearly lost in the thick yellow coat and pants she wore.

"Heey, Sis! What's up?"

Ellone patted the chocobo. She'd ridden the birds before, but not often. "I was going to go ride for a bit and get some fresh air."

"Sounds like fun!" Selphie chirped. "But, um… maybe you shouldn't go…"

"Because of what Rinoa told us," Ellone finished for her. She understood her friend's concern, of course, but her mind was made up.

Selphie nodded. "Yeah, that. A real super duper mega-bummer…"

"You're still having the wedding, aren't you?"

"Of course!" Selphie's hands flew to her hips as her grin widened. "We got this far, and everybody's here now. So let's pah-tay while we can!"

Ellone smiled in spite of herself. She ought to have known that nothing short of a Lunar Cry was going to delay Selphie's wedding. The girl loved a good party, both having them and throwing them, and this was a chance to do both at the same time. Ellone had enjoyed the rehearsal despite the grim mood of the morning meeting, and she looked forward to the actual ceremony tomorrow.

But in the meantime, she had work to do. "Where do I sign out a chocobo?"

"Just a sec, I'll take care of it," Selphie retrieved a clipboard from just inside the stable. "I used to hang out here a lot before I transferred to Balamb."

She jotted something down on the pad and with Ellone's help saddled the chocobo she'd been grooming. Ellone patted the bird fondly, slid her foot in the stirrups, and sat atop its back. She took the reins and walked the chocobo out of the paddock and through the Garden compound until she reached a gate in the south wall.

Beyond it, the frigid snowfields stretched as far as Ellone could see, broken here and there by small clusters of trees and patches of stiff brown grass. The ground was uneven in places, rising and falling in a series of low hills, and the mountains were just a tiny jagged line on the horizon.

Selphie turned to her, having accompanied her to this point. "This chocobo's called Starlight. She's nice and gentle and she knows her way home. But I certainly hope you don't get lost! It's easier than you think."

"Thanks for your help, Selphie," Ellone replied.

"No problem! Just make sure you get back soon. You don't wanna miss my bachelorette party tonight, do ya?"

Ellone had almost forgotten about that. "Ah, no, but… I'm not sure I feel up to it. I might have to pass it up, I'm afraid."

"But everybody's gonna be there, Sis! Me, Quisty, Rinoa, and Xu for sure."

"Well, I'm sure you'll all have enough fun without an old maid like me spoiling everything," Ellone smiled. "I wouldn't want to get in the way."

A tongue shot out at her. Selphie was _notorious_ for that. "_Old maid?_ You? Tee-hee, you're really funny, Ellone!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can't fool me, Sis! You might be a bit older than the rest of us, but you're still young and beautiful! Remember what I said the other day?"

Ellone chuckled. "How could I forget?"

"The guy for you is out there somewhere," Selphie giggled. "He'll show up when you're not lookin' for it. That's how it _always_ happens when it's really for real! Oh, it's gonna be so great! It'll be love at first sight!"

"I don't know. It would be nice, but I don't think it works that way in real life, Selphie. Love is a bit more complicated than that."

Selphie shook her head and winked. "Nah-uh! It just hits you like lightning! BANG! And then you're in love! Like with me an' Irvy!"

"What makes you think it's going to happen to me?" Ellone asked.

"Just a hunch. And my hunches are _never_ wrong! Tee-hee!"

There was no point in trying to persuade Selphie otherwise, so Ellone let the matter drop. Her life was much too hectic to allow her any sort of romantic relationship, not that she hadn't tried before. But both the fast pace of her life and her very identity had stymied any attempt at finding love. Few men cared to have a relationship with a woman over which a short yet brutal world war had been fought.

As the adopted daughter of the Estharian president, Ellone was also constantly under scrutiny, hence her frequent stays in Winhill. At least there, she was able to have some measure of privacy. But in Esthar she was often beset by would-be suitors who were usually powerful politicians or their sons or nephews, all looking to use her close proximity to Uncle Laguna to further their own ambitions.

Ellone had never yet met a man who genuinely loved her. Not the president's daughter, the commander's sister, or the girl with the strange powers. But _her._ Just her. Ellone would have given _anything_ to find a man like that. How many times had she wished she could just run away to someplace where nobody knew who she was, where she could meet a man who knew nothing about her and who would love her just as she was?

But that was impossible. Her fame, or infamy, was practically worldwide thanks to the war and her relationship to Uncle Laguna. Romantic love was something that Ellone had always known she would never have, even if she did still hope otherwise from time to time. If only such hope could make a thing come true.

"I wish it could…" Ellone murmured.

"What was that?" Selphie asked.

Ellone blinked, coming back to the present. "Nothing, sorry. But I still don't think I'll make it to the party tonight."

"Oh, okay," Selphie gave in at last. "Have fun riding! Squall's probably gonna be worried sick about you, though."

Ellone sighed. "He doesn't know. No one does, except you. Keep it that way, alright?"

"Alright," Selphie replied, her voice more subdued. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will, Selphie. I promise."

Ellone nudged Starlight into a trot, and before long Ellone was riding across the snowfields, her breath steaming in the air. Dark gray storm clouds hovered to the east, not quite so far away as she had earlier thought. She rode across the miles of whiteness until both Gardens had disappeared from sight.

----------

The tracks were all but gone now, but Vincent was quite certain where his quarry was going. What prints he had been able to see in the gloom headed continually north and slightly to the east, in line with the faint impressions of tire treads left by Cloud's motorcycle. Vincent rode his own bike deftly through the woods, towering pines rolling past on either side. He didn't race along but kept a more steady, if slower, pace. Smashing headlong into a tree trunk would do his friends no good.

And there was something else as well. Instinct, maybe. Vincent didn't know. But something in the forest called to him, or perhaps waited for him. There was something soothing about the stillness of the wood. Maybe that was why he spent so much time in the ancient, glowing forest that guarded Ajit, the forgotten capital of the Cetra.

Vincent had learned long ago to heed his intuition, to hear the whisper of the wind in the branches, and he often felt more at home in places like this than in the civilized settlements of human society. Perhaps he was just used to being alone. He had spent the last few years wandering, but he was never quite sure where he was going. Even now, Vincent felt himself carried along, his life traveling a path he could not see.

And right now, his instincts told him that something was coming on that path. Something important. Vincent didn't know what it might be, but he knew that if he left the forest too soon, he would miss it, possibly forever. This was his only chance. So as he hunted the snow leopards, Vincent kept the _Blackbird_ at a steady pace and watched for whatever it was his heart told him he would find here.

----------

Ellone guided Starlight into a stand of spindly evergreens, her instincts telling her that this was the place. She dismounted and tethered the chocobo to a nearby tree. Her boots crunching in the snow and her breath steaming in the air, Ellone took a few cautious steps and pulled her weapon from its harness. The bladestaff felt light and easy in her hands as she spun it into a ready position.

"Come on, where are you…?" Ellone muttered.

There was no answer save the blowing of the wind, louder now that the storm was closer. It would be on her before long, no doubt. She would have to cut her training session short and head back soon. And without a single encounter to show for it. Night was coming, and Ellone didn't want to be out here after dark. The temperature dropped rapidly after sunset, the cold becoming so brut—

Ellone's thoughts fell away in an instant as a snarling blur of blue and white fur flew at her from out of the undergrowth. Claws swiped at her, but she was already moving, her heart pounding in her chest. She dove to the side, leaping to her feet just as the snow lion charged her. It roared, its beady eyes glittering with a primal hunger, and snapped at Ellone with a gaping maw full of viciously sharp teeth.

First blood was hers. She dodged what would have been a fatal bite and spun the bladestaff in a backward arc that drew a line of red along the beast's side. Exhilaration filled her as the snow lion bellowed in pain. She was doing it! But the monster reacted faster than Ellone had thought it would. It whipped its head around and charged her again, slamming into her before she could defend herself.

Pain exploded inside Ellone's body as she fell to the snow. But she couldn't afford to hesitate. Not wasting a moment, she rolled aside just as the beast landed atop the place where she had been lying. But a swipe of the snow lion's claws tore bloody ribbons across her lower leg just as she got to her feet. Ellone stumbled and cried out, almost dizzy with the pain, and her weapon slid from her fingers.

Was this it? Was her first battle to be her last? How could she have been so stupid? Squall was right in not letting her into the training center. Fighting like this was very different from sparring, much more so than she had imagined. Ellone fell to her knees and wondered what it would be like to die. But a part of her wasn't willing to give up just yet. There was still so much she had left to do, a part of her life's path she had yet to travel.

Gritting her teeth against the pain as she braced herself on her wounded leg, Ellone grabbed the bladestaff in both hands, spun around, and drove the weapon deep into the snow lion's chest just as it sprang at her. The beast landed atop her, but by that time it was already dead, its limbs twitching in a few final spasms before finally going slack. Blood spilled over Ellone's hands and spattered across the front and sleeves of her coat, and for a moment she couldn't move, could hardly even breathe.

An odd silence hung in the air in the wake of the battle. Even the wind seemed to have gone quiet. Was it always like this? Or was it because she had never killed anything before? A new and unpleasant odor assaulted Ellone's nose, and while she had never smelled it herself, she knew well enough what it was. The stench of death.

At last, she summoned the strength to shove the body aside and rose shakily to her feet, hardly able to believe what she had just done. But as she gazed upon the snow lion's corpse, Ellone felt none of the euphoria she had thought she would. It wasn't fun, it wasn't exciting, and it wasn't something she wanted to do ever again. Her hands flying to her mouth, Ellone ran behind the nearest tree and threw up.

----------

There was no sign of his quarry, but Vincent was certain the snow leopards were close. He brought his motorcycle to a halt at the edge of a snowy clearing ringed with pines and firs. The sudden quiet as he cut off the engine was almost palpable, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind. A fallen tree half buried in the snow lay nearby.

Vincent dismounted, all his senses alert. He was here. Whether by intuition or luck or fate, he had found the place where it would happen, though he wasn't sure just what it was. But at any rate, he would have had to find a place to stop for a few hours' rest, anyway. And the leopards didn't know he was here.

It would be a cold night, for Vincent couldn't risk a fire with his prey so close. He didn't want them to discern his presence just yet. It seemed they had paused to rest as well. Another half a day and they would break free of the forest and catch Cloud and Tifa unawares in the middle of the glacier.

Reloading his weapons, Vincent wrapped his cloak about him and leaned against a nearby tree. He would rest, but not sleep. The leopards would leave early, but they would not get far. There was likely another grayback leading them, and if their numbers were as great as those of the other pack, it would prove a difficult battle. But he had no choice. Cloud and Tifa had to make the rendezvous to save Marlene, and if the snow leopards caught them, they would miss it. Vincent would see to it that they did not.

But what had drawn him to this particular place, this one clearing out of the countless many in the vast forest? And why here, of all places? There were other places not so far away that he could have stopped for the night, all close to the trail, but his instincts had guided him to this one. Vincent saw nothing out of the ordinary, though his reddish-brown eyes saw as clearly in the dark as in daylight.

Whatever it was, he would find it. He had to.

----------

After she had managed to compose herself, Ellone limped back to the snow lion's body and stared at it, not quite sure what to think. What now? How could she go on and turn against everything in her gentle nature? She wasn't a fighter. She didn't belong here. Nevertheless, she had shed blood, had taken a life. True, she had only been defending herself, but even that had shaken Ellone more than she had ever thought possible. How did Squall and the others live with it?

Ellone turned away and headed to where Starlight was tethered. It would be so easy to just go home and forget about all this and leave that blasted bladestaff here. The snow would bury it and the body before long. Ellone started to untie Starlight's harness and lead her away, but Rinoa's words suddenly came back to her.

"_She wants you dead. I don't know why. But… she fears you, something about you. Your power, maybe? I wish I knew more."_

It was the whole reason she had come out here in the first place. Ellone turned back to the body of the snow lion, her lips tightening in resolve. The woman was going to come after her, sooner or later, and if Ellone didn't face her herself, others would be hurt trying to protect her. That was something Ellone couldn't allow, not anymore. Too many had already suffered for her sake.

Ellone drank one of the potions she'd brought, and the pain in her leg lessened, though it did not die entirely. The slashes slowly began knitting themselves together as the bleeding stopped. She couldn't put all her weight on it yet, but it would heal in time. Ellone limped back to the snow lion's body, planted her good leg against its broad torso, and pulled the bladestaff from its chest.

The weapon came free with a sickening wrench, but Ellone kept herself steady. She had to be strong now. As she gazed upon the bloodstained steel, her grip on the bladestaff grew firm, certain. This was her fate. She would never like it, never enjoy it, but she would do what she had to do, what she was meant to do. She had no choice if she was to protect those who had for so long protected her.

After wiping the weapon clean on the monster's hide, Ellone slid the bladestaff back into its harness, swung onto Starlight's feathered back, and rode out of the clearing at a brisk trot. She only had a little time left to find some more monsters, but she couldn't take too long. That storm was getting awfully close. The wind was picking up, tossing flurries of snow everywhere, and thunder was rumbling ominously across the rapidly darkening sky.

About an hour or so later, Ellone was heading as closely north as she could manage without the sun to guide her. It was hidden behind the mass of clouds blotting out the sky. She didn't think she had gone too far from the Garden, but with the way the snowfields sprawled out in all directions, Ellone couldn't be sure.

Her teeth chattering in the deepening cold, Ellone pressed on. She hadn't encountered any other monsters since her battle with the snow lion, but it didn't surprise her. They had probably taken shelter from the storm. She nudged Starlight a little faster, hoping the increased pace would keep the bird warm and get them both back to the Garden before too long. The snow was falling faster now, much too quickly for Ellone's liking.

Suddenly she froze, pulling Starlight to a halt and glancing around her. The snow was everywhere, falling on all sides, and the wind howled in her ears. Where was she? Which way should she go? What little she was able to glimpse seemed all the same to her, the same low, white hills in every direction. Starlight's tracks had disappeared beneath drifts of fresh snow. As she struggled to orient herself, Ellone felt a chill in her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Oh, no…"


	11. Convergence

**Chapter 10  
****Convergence**

Cloud paused, motioning for Tifa to do the same. The high bluff that was Gaia's Cliff towered above them, a massive wall of ice and rock. He and Tifa and the others had traversed it years before while in pursuit of Sephiroth. It had been a long and difficult climb, one Cloud did not look forward to repeating.

He and Tifa had traversed the glacier without further incident and had managed to avoid the storm as it billowed south. Hopefully Vincent would be able to navigate his way through it, as it was heading right for him. Though he would have liked to have had his friend here now, the snow leopards had kept them apart. Cloud and Tifa would have to face the ice witch alone, as she had originally intended.

They had left _Fenrir_ at Holzoff's cabin that morning, as it wasn't that far from the grizzled old climber's home to the base of the cliffs. And the bike would have done no good here, anyway, as the slope was much too steep to ride upon. With fresh supplies and a renewed sense of purpose, Cloud and Tifa had traveled the rest of the way on foot. They were here, but where was the ice witch? Where was Marlene?

"Cloud," Tifa brought up her fists. Something was out there.

He nodded, sword in hand. "I hear it, too."

A subtle rise in the wind, a deepening of the icy cold, and suddenly she was there. Emerging from the trees with hardly a sound, her bare feet walking upon the top of the snow and leaving no tracks behind. She had shed her gray cloak, here in her native element, and wore only a shoulderless garment of deep blue that did little to hide her feminine curves. Curls of pale blue hair hung down her back, and her scarlet eyes gazed upon Cloud and Tifa the way those of a hawk might examine its prey.

Held tightly by one slender arm was Marlene, shivering and frightened but otherwise unharmed. "Tifa! Cloud!"

"Let her go," Cloud pointed his blade at the ice witch.

She made a sweeping motion with her other arm, and suddenly Cloud's weapon was torn from his hand by an unseen yet inhumanly strong force. The sword tumbled to the snow, but before Cloud could do anything, that same invisible fist slammed into his chest and he fell. A startled cry from Tifa told him the same thing had just happened to her.

The ice witch gazed down at them, her crimson eyes narrowing. "I'll do as I wish, Cloud Strife. And if you want the girl back, so will you."

"What do you want?" Tifa growled.

"There is something I need, something you're going to find for me. It's on the other side of the cliff, in the depths of the crater."

Cloud suddenly understood. "You're after the Black Materia."

"Very good," she confirmed.

"What makes you think it's even in there?" Tifa demanded. "And why do you want it? What are you going to do with it?"

The ice witch tightened her grip on Marlene. "That's not your concern, is it? All that matters is that I need it, and that you're going to get it for me."

Cloud got to his feet. "Why should we help you?"

"Because," the ice witch hissed. Suddenly in her free hand was a curved dagger of solid ice, vapor rising from the blade. She held it in front of Marlene's suddenly wide eyes so she could see it. "If you don't, the girl will die."

----------

_Damn. What the goddamn hell were you thinking, Sis?_

Squall tried his best not to show his irritation, lest the wedding guests suspect something was amiss. But he couldn't help worrying about Ellone. No one had seen her since late yesterday afternoon, nor even realized she was missing until this morning when she hadn't shown up to get ready for the ceremony. She was one of the bridesmaids, so it hadn't taken Selphie and the other girls long to realize Ellone wasn't there.

Nor had it taken much coaxing for Selphie to admit to signing out a chocobo yesterday for Ellone to ride. Sis had gone south, and while he understood why she might have wanted to clear her head, Squall guessed that there were other reasons for the trip. Ellone had taken her bladestaff with her.

It was his own damned fault, of course. He'd kept her out of the training center, but only because he'd been trying to protect her. Ellone had wanted to move too quickly with her training, but even with her unusual skills there were still a lot of things she had to learn. Squall had never expected her to go this far, though.

"_Squall… —orry, but… had to go. I'm fine… —ent the night under… few trees. Had… battles. I'm on… way back… not sure… way to go. Storm's still going… —ard to see, but I'll… alright. Starlight… her way home. Tell Selph… —et herself married. I wish… could be there… see it. Don't worry about me, Squall. I'll… back… you know it."_

Ellone's garbled call a few hours ago had calmed Squall's nerves a little. At least she'd had the sense to take her cell phone with her, though with the interference from the storm, Squall had only managed to catch bits and pieces of her words. But she seemed out of danger, for the moment at least. Squall wouldn't rest easy until she had come back safely to the Garden, however.

Hopefully, the search teams would find her before too long and bring her back. Kiros was leading them, so Squall didn't feel as much anxiety about the situation as he otherwise might have. If anyone could find her, Kiros would. In the meantime, Squall tried to enjoy the wedding as much as he could. Rinoa would tease him mercilessly if he didn't seem to be having a good time.

From her place at Selphie's side, Rinoa winked at him, all smiles. She and Quistis and Xu all wore fine strapless gowns of pale yellow silk with white lace, though in Squall's admittedly biased opinion, Rinoa was the most beautiful of the three, her dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders in loose curls. Selphie's dress was similar in style but completely white in color, and her green eyes shone behind the veil.

Squall, like Zell and Nida to his left and Irvine to his right, wore his formal SeeD uniform. His commander's pips shone on his collar, and had he looked down, he'd have seen his face reflected in his boots. It was a bit odd to see Irvine in uniform, as he wore it so rarely, and his head seemed bare without his trademark cowboy hat. But his cocky grin was as firmly in place as always. Some things never changed.

A quick glance at the crowd of guests seated in Trabia Garden's banquet hall showed Squall a few familiar faces near the front. Laguna, who'd given Selphie away, and Ward. Matron Edea was also in front, but Cid was busy conducting the ceremony. Squall doubted that Selphie would have wanted anyone else to do it. Zell's girlfriend—Sara, wasn't it?—a pretty green-eyed SeeD with a thick braid of blond hair. Dr. Kadowaki was here, too, and Mark Denham, the cafeteria lady's son. Lily Baines was with him. Did Zell know? Probably. But it was his problem, not Squall's.

There was an odd expression on the Denham kid's face, though, one Squall didn't like. Maybe he was just worried about Zell. Dating the ex-girlfriend of a guy like him was certainly a risky endeavor. Zell wasn't known for his sense of restraint, after all. And he'd never really gotten over Lily, much as he'd have liked to convince people otherwise. Even Squall could see it. He wondered if Zell's new girl could, too.

When had Squall started thinking about stuff like that? No doubt it was Rinoa's influence. He loved her to death, but sometimes he didn't realize just how much she had changed him. At least he wasn't telling people to talk to walls anymore. Once, Squall would never have imagined having a woman in his life, much less one like Rinoa. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her.

A sudden eruption of cheers and applause brought Squall to the present, and he turned to see Irvine and Selphie wrapped in a fervent kiss. So that was it, then. Husband and wife. Squall clapped along with the others and wondered when it would be his and Rinoa's turn. All he had to do was ask, right? Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

With a little luck, Kiros and the others would find Ellone and she would be back to at least catch some of the reception over in the quad. The storm that she was struggling through hadn't quite gotten here yet, though had he stepped outside, Squall would have seen the lines of gray clouds piled on the southeastern horizon. Another day or so, probably, and that blizzard would catch up to them.

He would have to get the Garden moving again before that. Bad weather would hinder its mobility, and Squall had no wish to draw out the inevitable goodbyes. He would be leaving a pair of good friends behind, and it was something he did not look forward to. Selphie and Irvine had made their choice, and Squall wished them well here in Trabia. But his own Garden was going to seem oddly empty after they were gone.

Squall took Rinoa's arm and followed the happy couple out of the banquet hall as the ceremony concluded. He barely heard the music and the laughter, though, as an odd premonition suddenly struck him. Something wasn't right, although he could not have said what that might have been. Was something going to happen? Or had it already begun? Whatever the case, Squall's instincts told him to be wary.

He thought again of the odd expression on Denham's face, a sort of faint worry that even Squall had been able to see. What was going on? Suddenly, Squall wasn't so sure it had anything to do with Zell. But it made him uneasy. It was as though the kid was expecting something and not liking whatever it was it might be. But what?

_Maybe I'm just seeing things. Or overworked. Probably both._

Nevertheless, Squall couldn't shake the vague disquiet that had settled within him. As he and Rinoa made their way to Balamb Garden's quad for the reception, that seed of doubt seemed to grow stronger with every step. But what could he do about it? Nothing, at least for the moment. Except watch and wait.

----------

The better part of a day had come and gone, and still Vincent waited in the clearing. The leopards were still out there. They hadn't moved, so neither had he. Their waiting bothered him more than a little. Hadn't they been after Cloud and Tifa? Wasn't that the point of the chase? Or was it something else?

Or were Cloud and Tifa not their intended prey?

Vincent straightened as though splashed with cold water. How could he have not seen it? It wasn't his friends the leopards were after. It was _him._ He had killed the grayback, after all. Their pack leader. They had sped north as though pursuing his friends, knowing all the while that he would follow without hesitation. But where were they leading him? And why had they not struck yet?

Maybe they were biding their time, herding him into an ambush somewhere. If that were the case, they could afford to take their time and wait for him. They couldn't be far off, though, and Vincent realized he'd been toyed with. He would wait here a little longer to see if the leopards knew he had caught on to their little game, but he would not be their plaything any longer.

The sun was sinking beneath the treetops, the close of another day, and Vincent could only hope his friends had reached the rendezvous in time. They were beyond his help now, though he would continue traveling north as swiftly as he could. With luck, he would find them before they had completed the ice witch's errand.

And then Marlene's captor would know true fear.

----------

Mark Denham watched with a certain apprehension as people gathered in the quad for the reception. At the staff table, the senior officers of both Balamb and Trabia Gardens, many of which had participated in the actual wedding, were sitting and chatting along with several VIP guests such as Esthar's President Loire. In the middle of that table stood the wedding cake, a three-tiered confection trimmed with flowers of yellow icing.

First would come the speeches, though, and to start them off was the commander himself. Leonhart rose, tapped a fork to his glass to get everyone's attention, and waited for the murmur of conversation to die down before starting. For a moment, though, as he looked over the crowd, his gaze fixed on Mark. Just a brief second and then it was gone. But in that moment, Mark almost warned him. Almost said what surely would have led to his expulsion and perhaps imprisonment. But something held him back, the fear of what would happen if he did say something. If _she_ found out about his betrayal.

If that happened, others would suffer. Lily would suffer.

That sickness, that poison that had nearly consumed his mother, would come back. That woman would make sure of it. Mark had no doubt of that. He had seen the bite on his mother's arm, the swollen flesh of the wound that had looked so small when she had first received it. Mark knew well enough what had caused it. He had seen it himself when the woman had come to him later.

It was a snake.

A viper, its scales black and glistening, its eyes slitted and amber and not unlike those of its mistress. It had slithered around her arm, gazing at Mark with those terrible eyes, its forked tongue flicking in and out. And then the woman had handed him the device, whispering to him the deadly consequences of failure, her words punctuated every so often by the snake's hissing. Mark had understood at once.

He glanced to his left, where Lily was sitting next to him. She smiled, but he could see the worry behind it. Mark hadn't told her everything, not by half. He couldn't let her know the danger she was in. Bad enough the woman had threatened his mother, but she had seemed to sense his feelings for Lily and, while not directly, had insinuated that she too would pay should he not complete his task.

Mark had promised himself he wouldn't let that damned snake anywhere near her. Even if it did mean planting that device under the staff table, an act that was nothing less than a betrayal of the people and place he cared about so much. But he'd had no choice. Lily, his mother, and half the Garden's population would be poisoned and killed by that woman and her snakes. Mark hadn't thought for a minute that her pet was unique.

So to save the many, he had to let the few suffer.

----------

With his one task finished, Squall sat down and let out a relieved sigh. He still wasn't comfortable giving speeches, but he thought he was at least getting a little better at it. Irvine and Selphie had liked it, anyway, and the toast he'd given them at the end. The champagne felt good as he took another sip. Maybe it would help him loosen up.

Rinoa, as the maid of honor, gave the next speech, followed by Cid. The headmaster and his wife sat at the middle of the table, Squall and Rinoa to their left and Irvine and Selpie on their right. Zell was at Rinoa's left with Quistis, Xu, and Nida, while Laguna, Ward, and the Trabia Garden headmistress, her staff, and a few other VIP guests sat to the right of the bride and groom.

There was another call for silence, this time from Cid, as Irvine and Selphie rose from their seats to cut the cake. Squall wished there weren't so many cameras—it sometimes felt as though he was always staring at one nowadays—but at such a big event like this, he supposed it was unavoidable. He was just starting to relax, clasping Rinoa's hand in his, when a young SeeD, her face oddly pale, hurried over to him and whispered something in his ear. Now, of all times?

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but we just received an urgent message from Minister Kiros. I think… I think it has to do with your sister…"

Squall faced her immediately. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure, sir. He asked to speak to you right away."

"What's wrong?" Rinoa asked softly, not wanting to disturb the scene before them. Selphie and Irvine were just now touching a knife to the top layer of the cake. Squall didn't want to miss it, but he knew Kiros wouldn't have called like this unless it was absolutely necessary. And if Ellone was in trouble, Squall had to go to her.

He looked at Rinoa. "I don't know. I'll be right back, though. Don't go anywhere."

Following the young SeeD, Squall rose and hurried to one side of the quad, where a communications panel was fixed upon the wall. On the video link, Kiros was standing on the bridge of the _Illumina,_ the sister ship of Squall's own _Ragnarok_ airship. Behind Kiros, Squall could see the snowy hills of Trabia unfolding beyond the forward windows of the bridge. He didn't like how dark the skies looked.

"What's going on, Kiros? Did you find Ellone?"

"Not yet," Kiros shook his head. "But I just picked up some rather unpleasant news from my contacts in Winhill. I think Ellone's in more danger than we thought."

Squall leaned forward, all thoughts of the wedding gone. "What do you mean?"

"There's been a murder. A body was found in Winhill less than half an hour ago. I just got word of it myself."

"Murder? In Winhill?" Squall's jaw sagged.

Kiros nodded. "That's not all. The victim… it was Marissa Clark. Ellone's neighbor. A friend of hers, remember? Her throat was cut, and her neck was snapped. The authorities say it happened a few days ago."

"I think I met her once. But I still don't get it. Why was she killed?"

"There was one other thing. The killer carved something into her forehead. The initials 'E.L.' and… something like a snake."

Squall looked at him, his blood running cold. "Are you sure?"

"I saw a postmortem photo of it myself just before I called you. One of my contacts emailed me a copy. Squall, Marissa knew that Ellone was going to Trabia."

"Shit!" Suddenly it all clicked into place. Squall's eyes widened. "Kiros, you have to find Ellone. Find her _now!"_

Kiros understood. "I intend to. You coming?"

"The _Ragnarok_ will be at your position in twenty minutes. We have to get to Ellone before Marissa's killer does. He's out there, I'm sure of it."

"I agree. See you then, Squall. Kiros out."

The channel winked off, leaving the screen blank and empty. Squall felt his earlier sense of dread return, this time magnified tenfold. Ellone was lost, trying to head back here, not knowing that she herself was being hunted. By who or what, Squall didn't know. He would figure that out later. Right now, all that mattered was getting Ellone to safety.

Squall turned back to the wedding reception, regretting what he was going to have to do. But Selphie and Irvine and the others would understand, would in fact insist on going with him. Ellone was their friend, too, after all. And saving her life was more important right now. The rest of the celebration could wait.

But Squall had taken no more than a single step back toward the gathering when an eerie, high-pitched whine abruptly cut through the air and was gone. What the hell was that? Squall looked up, seeing the sudden unease on Cid's face as he and Matron Edea stood at the middle of the table with Selphie and Irvine, who had paused in the act of cutting their wedding cake.

In that seemingly eternal moment, one that would haunt Squall for the rest of his life, the full meaning of Mark Denham's odd anxiety suddenly hit him like a wendigo's fist. He tried to call out, his wide, frightened eyes moving from the headmaster to Matron and Rinoa and the others, but it was too late.

The staff table exploded.

----------

Ellone shivered, not looking forward to spending another night out here in the cold. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to get her bearings. Starlight was heading north, alright, but the hills all looked the same in the snowy haze of the storm. Wherever she looked, sheets of whiteness were falling from the skies. The clouds had darkened to an ugly gray that was almost black, and the occasional rumble of thunder crashed through the air as twilight drew near.

She looked over her shoulder again but saw nothing. Yet for the last hour, Ellone could have sworn something was out there. Or someone. Her intuition warned against making any sort of contact, however, and so she had pressed on, hoping to reach Garden before nightfall. Yet even that seemed unlikely now.

A sliver of dread shot down her spine, and Ellone glanced back again. Still nothing. But she could have sworn she wasn't alone. She felt behind her with one hand until her fingers found the shaft of her weapon. Funny how it made her feel safer now. After this morning's fight with the gaylas, she was starting to get used to having it around. But she would never like using it, never care for the bloodshed and death the use of such a weapon entailed. Ellone wouldn't let it change who she was.

Her stomach rumbled, but Ellone rode on. She hadn't eaten since leaving the Garden late yesterday afternoon, nor had she brought anything with her. She hadn't thought she'd be out so long, after all. Ellone's mouth watered at the thought of the food that everyone at the reception must have been enjoying by now. If only she hadn't been so headstrong, Ellone could have been there herself.

Yet part of her wondered if this wasn't somehow where she was meant to be. Ever since she'd woken up this morning in that little stand of spindly pines under which she'd made her meager camp, Ellone had felt herself carried along on some unseen current she could not name, driven by fate or the heavens or who knew what else. It wasn't dangerous, exactly, but it frightened her a little. It was as though everything in her life before this was pushing her to some defining moment not far off, but what that might be, Ellone did not know. It was strange and unsettling and exciting all at the same time.

And then there were the voices.

Ellone didn't think she was crazy, but neither could she deny what she was hearing. Not with her ears, but in her mind. A soft chorus of whispers, like a group of people talking in a far off room with the door closed. Sometimes one or another of the voices almost became distinct, but then they fell away just before Ellone could pinpoint what they were. She had first begun hearing them late this morning, little by little until it was an almost constant presence in her mind.

Beneath the current of voices was a larger one, soft like the others but vast and without words. It felt somehow familiar to Ellone, something she had known or should have known on some deeper level. The other voices were a part of it, filled it yet were separate from it. The many were dependent on the one, and the one on the many. Ellone didn't understand and yet she did. It was almost like a part of herself was coming home, something inside her that had slept for most of her life was finally waking up.

But what was it? And why now?

Ellone shook off her thoughts as that feeling of dread returned. But this time when she looked back, her fear was justified. Something was there. A figure, tall and hooded and dark against the storm, stood on a rise watching her, the edges of its cloak fluttering in the wind. The thing met her gaze, and Ellone had to choke back a sudden urge to scream. She tried to reach for the bladestaff, but fear froze her solid.

The shape walked toward her and faded out, gone one moment and there the next, only now it was closer, less than fifty meters away. In the midst of the storm, it looked at her, its pale face mottled and gray, something twisted and tortured yet undeniably and horrifyingly human. But it was the eyes that held Ellone in place, that cause her heart to pound and her body to shake with raw terror.

Or rather, where its eyes should have been.

There were none, only empty pits of deepest black. Ellone shivered, paralyzed with fear by that eyeless gaze. She saw death in those dark sockets. _Her_ death. One moment, the shape was there, a hideous sight in the gloom of the storm. The next, it was gone. Ellone found she could move, though she was still shaking quite badly. She urged Starlight into a trot, trying to put as much distance between herself and that thing as possible.

But no sooner had she started moving again than the shape came at her again, this time appearing right in front of Starlight's beak. The frightened chocobo squawked madly, her wings flaring out as she stumbled backwards so violently that she threw Ellone from the saddle. Ellone cried out, tumbling into the snow with a thud, and before she knew what was happening, Starlight bolted off into the night and was gone.

Ellone rolled to her feet and pulled the bladestaff from its harness as her pursuer closed in. The thing wasted no words, instead brandishing a pair of wickedly curved blades. It moved with inhuman speed, darting from place to place and slashing with expert precision. Yet by some means she could not explain, Ellone found herself parrying blow after blow, steel clanging against steel in the midst of the storm.

Her blood burned, the soft tingling of her power now stronger than Ellone had ever thought it could be, seeming to flow seamlessly from her body into her weapon. Or was it the other way around? It felt as though something or someone was guiding her, fighting through her, and with every stroke and every thrust, the power inside her grew stronger. Though still afraid, Ellone found she could face her enemy without faltering.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The thing's voice was like ice. "I am your death. Call me… Sa'miel."

"She sent you to kill me."

"It is our Queen's will," he agreed, cutting at her again with his swords. "Your power wakes, but it will not save you."

Ellone blocked his attack, spinning low to thrust upward in an attack of her own. Yet the assassin's reflexes were faster than she had anticipated, parrying her strike with blinding speed. He spun, his blades descending toward her, but Ellone was fast, too, rolling aside and slashing in at him with a powerful backhand thrust. Sa'miel had his swords there instantly, however, slamming her weapon away with his own before it could connect.

Metal clashed against metal, the sound ringing in the frigid night as Ellone and Sa'miel fought. Neither gave any ground, and neither took any. The battle raged, Ellone thrusting and slashing for all she was worth. The power burned inside her, setting her blood on fire as it continued to build. She spun and ducked and dodged, escaping Sa'miel's vicious attacks even as he parried her own.

Ellone braced herself as Sa'miel fell back for a moment, spinning his blades in his gloved hands. He didn't attack, though, but looked at her with that horrifying, eyeless gaze. Ellone swallowed but didn't let down her guard. What was he planning? His cloak, bulky and thick and as black as the night air, swirled around him. Sa'miel, standing a few meters away, pointed the tip of one sword at Ellone's heart.

"Enough play."

He rushed at her, swords raised, and Ellone whipped up her bladestaff to counter the blow. But the attack never came. Sa'miel disappeared in midthrust. What had just happened? Ellone lowered her weapon and took a step forward, looking at the place where he'd been, when suddenly she froze, her head whipping up and her eyes widening.

Sa'miel was behind her.

Ellone gasped in shock as he plunged one of his swords into her back. Pain ripped through her body as the cold steel sliced through her heart and punched through her ribs. Dimly, she managed to look down and see the blade as it broke through the skin of her chest and the fabric of her jacket.

She managed to bring one trembling hand up to touch the blade that had killed her, the steel slick with her own blood. Everything was swimming, the world falling away like a mirage. There was a sickening wrench as she felt Sa'miel slide his sword from her body, and then her legs could no longer support her.

Ellone crumpled to the ground, her blood pouring out onto the snow.

----------

It was done.

Sa'miel looked with silent satisfaction at the girl he had just killed. She had proven as much of a challenge as he had hoped, though in truth he could have ended her life at any time. But letting her believe she could win, then cutting her down just as she realized her foolhardiness, was so much better.

Gravheine would be pleased. Now there was no obstacle for the her dark Queen's rebirth. Once more, the planet would know her true Mistress. None of her guardians now remained to protect her. Sa'miel had seen to that. The girl might have come to know her true heritage in time, but he could not have allowed that.

Sa'miel unfurled his feathery wings, what the girl had mistaken for a cloak. In the near darkness of the storm, it was not surprising. Sa'miel ran a finger along the length of the bloodied blade and brought it to his mouth. The girl's blood was sweet, though not so much as he had hoped. Her family's bloodline had been diluted by many generations of human ancestors. But it would do.

Yet as he was about to leave, Sa'miel paused. Something was wrong. A flicker of white light pulsed over the girl's body. First one, then another. And another. The girl's weapon was still clasped in her dead hand, but now it was glowing, the intricate scrollwork engraved on the twin blades flaring to life in a brilliant flash of light.

Too late, Sa'miel sensed the hidden will within the weapon, the life pulsing within it. Those who had once been his people so long ago had forged a few such blades, powerful armaments capable of harboring a part of their wielder's life force, but Sa'miel had thought them all lost over the centuries save the one Gravheine possessed.

Light raced from the bladestaff and down the girl's arm to envelop her body, diving into the wounds like a swirl of miniature shooting stars and restoring the sundered flesh and bone. Skin and tissue knitted itself back together as light pulsed and flared within the girl's corpse in a blinding corona. And then Sa'miel saw the impossible happen.

The girl moved.

----------

_I'm dead._

_Not quite. You still have a lot to do. More than you know._

_I don't understand._

_You will, in time. You'll remember who you are. And what you are. And when that happens, you'll know what to do._

_Who are you?_

_A friend. I've been waiting for you a long time. Your family and I have a long history together. Your real family, that is._

_I never knew them. I wish I could have._

_I know. And maybe you'll have that chance. You can hear those who've returned to the planet if you know how to listen._

_What do you mean?_

_You'll understand. But right now we have work to do._

_Alright. I'm ready._

_Good. Then wake up. We'll talk again soon._

----------

Ellone gasped in a lungful of air, blinking snow out of her eyes as the world returned in a rush. The storm thundered around her, the cold air bit at her ears with sharp teeth. Smells assaulted her—rain, wet grass, sweat, drying blood. Ellone rolled onto her back, her vision coming into focus as she realized she was alive. Light glowed around her, and in her hand the bladestaff pulsed with warmth.

Her power surging within her, Ellone rose to her feet, and before Sa'miel could recover from his shock, she lunged forward and thrust the glowing bladestaff through his chest. He screamed, his wings fluttering as his weapons fell to the ground. There would be no escape this time. Ellone would see to that.

Her blood burning, Ellone finally gave vent to her power, letting it flow through her body unchecked and into the bladestaff, setting it ablaze with white fire. Roaring in a voice that was not her own, she drove the weapon deeper into Sa'miel's body. A body not of flesh but of some dark nether substance that slowly unraveled as the bladestaff's fury consumed it.

The wraith that was Sa'miel burned.

White fire ripped apart his spectral body in a blinding explosion that hurled Ellone into the air like a rag doll. Light was everywhere, everything. The snowfields were gone, the storm was gone. Everything was gone in that instant. Ellone was still holding the bladestaff, but its own light was fading in the wake of Sa'miel's destruction.

Ellone was falling, still falling. Falling into the light. It was as though the world had suddenly been ripped open and she was tumbling through a hole to the other side. But where? She couldn't see anything, just the light. And she was still falling as though some giant had picked her up and thrown her like a ball. But moments later shapes began to appear before her as the light faded. At first she wasn't sure what they were, but as her vision cleared, Ellone recognized them at once.

They were trees.

----------

The hairs on the back of Vincent's neck stood on end as he glanced warily around the clearing. Something was coming. He brought up Cerberus, his thumb cocking the hammer back, and waited. The wind picked up, whispering through the trees and scattering fallen leaves and pine cones in its wake. There was no other sound, but that didn't ease Vincent's mind. Snow leopards were cunning and silent killers when they wanted to be.

Vincent walked, guided by an impulse he could not ignore, to the middle of the clearing, his eyes watching the perimeter as he moved. What was going on? He gripped the Death Penalty in his other hand, his finger nestled against the trigger, but nothing showed itself. The leopards still seemed to be waiting.

So if it wasn't them, what was it?

There was a sudden flash of light almost right in front of him, and Vincent had just enough time to see the outline of someone falling toward him before the light vanished. Startled, he dropped his guns and threw up his hands just as a warm body collided with him and sent him sprawling onto his back in the snow. Vincent blinked, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed for the first time upon the person lying in his arms.

It was a woman.

----------

Ellone stared at the man underneath her, everything else suddenly driven from her mind. She found she couldn't speak, so stunned and overwhelmed was she at what had just happened. The bladestaff lay in the snow nearby, unlit and for the moment forgotten. Right now, Ellone couldn't take her eyes from those of the handsome stranger.

Her heart hammering against her ribs, Ellone searched for words but found none. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his body beneath hers, of the sensation of his arms still holding onto her. She could feel his heart beating not so far from her own, and it was racing as fast as hers. His eyes were attractive reddish-brown pools that Ellone thought she would lose herself in if she gazed at them for too long. Yet she was helpless in that moment to do anything but that.

Words came to her, a thousand things she wanted to say, but nothing came out. She was almost afraid to break the silence, and from the look of it, the man beneath her was having the same struggle. Why was it so hard? Every time Ellone opened her mouth, her heart leapt up in her throat. Her skin tingled with goosebumps, and a host of butterflies fluttered lazily in her stomach as she finally spoke.

"…Hi…"


	12. At First Sight

**Part 2  
Crossover**

**----------------------------------------- **

**Chapter 11  
At First Sight**

Lyrics from"Winter Light"by Tim Finnfrom_ The Chronicles of Narnia _soundtrack

"Lucrecia…?"

Vincent stared unbelievingly at the young woman who lay atop him. How was this possible? His heart was pounding as he looked at her. So much had changed, but still, it had to be her, didn't it? Her body was small and soft and warm in his arms, achingly familiar yet somehow oddly different at the same time.

The girl blinked. "What? I, er… that's not my name…"

"Sorry, I… mistook you for someone else…"

How could he have been so stupid? Vincent looked at the girl again, noting the differences now. She _did_ have a resemblance to Lucrecia, though, and a rather strong one at that. The same deep brown eyes and small, pink lips. The same rounded jaw and slim, delicate nose. The girl's hair was an almost identical shade of brown, although hers was much shorter than Lucrecia's. Had it not been held back in a small ponytail, it would have fallen just shy of her shoulders as opposed to Lucrecia's long, sweeping locks.

"It's alright," the girl offered a small, embarrassed smile.

She didn't have the wire-framed eyeglasses that Lucrecia had worn, but aside from that and the shortness of her hair, she could almost have passed for Lucrecia's sister or close cousin. Vincent felt the uncanny similarity in body weight and size of the two women and wondered what odd trick fate was playing on him. Yet if it _was_ a trick, it was one he found he did not mind.

Vincent barely resisted a sudden and powerful urge to touch the girl's hair. What was he _thinking?_ She really was beautiful, though. Even in the dim shafts of moonlight that were the only illumination in this otherwise dark clearing, Vincent could see that. And the gentle pressure of her breasts against his chest was more distracting than he cared to admit.

A low, feral growl from off to his right snapped Vincent back to his senses. The leopards had come for him after all. Flicking his eyes first to the right, then the left, he saw them. Lean white things like huge panthers, their yellow eyes shining in the dark. Jaws parted to reveal curved fangs like daggers. They padded toward Vincent and the girl from all sides, their feet making no sound in the snow.

Vincent caught sight of Cerberus, lying to his right not a meter from his hand. To his left a little farther lay what must have been the girl's weapon, an unusual dual-bladed staff-sword of elaborate design. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but at the moment Vincent could spare no thought pondering it.

He looked back at the girl. "You see them?"

"Yeah… not very friendly, are they?"

"No. I'll explain later. Move when I tell you. You know what to do?"

She nodded. Good. Vincent wasted no words as he waited for the leopards to draw closer. He and the girl could still catch them by surprise, but only if they waited for the right moment. Vincent admired the girl's calm and self-control. She was afraid, of that Vincent had no doubt—and in these circumstances he would have thought it strange if she were not—but her features remained set and determined.

When the snow leopards were less than ten meters away, Vincent nodded. That was all the girl needed. She rolled away in an instant as Vincent did the same. They went in opposite directions, each grabbing their weapon in midroll, springing to their feet and bracing themselves back to back as the monsters leapt at them, claws bared.

There must have been at least a dozen of them. Vincent fired, catching one in midair, the sound shattering the stillness of the clearing. He ripped out the throat of another leopard with the talons of his bronze claw as out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl fighting off a pair of the things with her weapon, spinning and slashing with expert precision. She was good. She was _very_ good.

Vincent dove for his other gun, grabbing it and rolling to his feet, firing all the while. Three more leopards fell dead. He saw the _Blackbird,_ still parked at the edge of the clearing where he'd left it, and motioned to the girl. She nodded without turning her head as she impaled one leopard, kicked the body from her weapon, and disemboweled another with a swift forehand slash across its abdomen.

There were two leopards between Vincent and the motorcycle, but a pair of simultaneous blasts from both Cerberus and the Death Penalty took them down before they could reach him. The girl was right behind him, spinning her weapon in a deadly arc that kept most of the remaining leopards at bay. But at a startled cry, Vincent whipped around, guns raised. One of them had gotten through, its claws raking trails of blood across the girl's arm as it bowled her over.

The thing bared its fangs and would have torn the girl's throat out, but then its face simply exploded. Vincent kept Cerberus, its barrel still smoking, trained on the rest of the monsters as he reached down and helped the girl to her feet. Together they hopped onto the motorcycle, Vincent in front and the girl behind him. She slipped her weapon into a leather harness on her back and wrapped her arms tightly around Vincent's waist as he gunned the engine to life and sped into the woods as quickly as he dared.

----------

Ellone held on tight, ignoring as best she could the fresh pain sizzling in her left shoulder. She hadn't been fast enough, and had the dark-haired man not shot the thing just in time, she would have been dead. Again. Ellone brushed the thought off, not wanting to think just yet of how she had gotten here, how she was even still alive after Sa'miel had run her through.

Trees whizzed past on either side, and a few whipcrack explosions from just ahead of her told Ellone that her rescuer had just shot a few more of those white panther things. How many more of them were there? A pair of white shapes flitted through the woods on either side, keeping up with the motorcycle and occasionally coming into view until the dark-haired man's gun forced them back into cover.

One of them suddenly leapt broadside at Ellone, seemingly from out of nowhere. She reacted instinctively, slamming a booted foot full into the thing's furry chest, and it flew back into the trees with a crash. More gunshots from in front of her, and Ellone glimpsed a mangled blur of white and red that was another of the monsters, or what was left of it, tumbling away. Ellone leaned close to the man in front of her.

"Did we get them all?" she had to shout to be heard over the bike's engines.

He shook his head. "No. But I doubt they'll pursue us much farther. We are nearing the edge of the forest, and snow leopards seldom venture far from it."

"Where are we going?"

"North," he explained. "I have friends in need of help. But we will have to find shelter soon. A storm is coming."

Ellone thought of the blizzard in Trabia and shivered. She wasn't looking forward to another such experience. But at least this time, she wasn't alone. And Ellone knew just by the look of this place that it wasn't Trabia. On the rolling plains and gentle hills of Trabia there had been only a few isolated clusters of trees, not the sprawling mountain forest that Ellone was riding through now. There were plenty of mountains in Trabia, of course, but she hadn't been anywhere near them when Sa'miel had attacked her.

So where was she?

Someplace else, obviously. This wasn't the world Ellone knew, but it wasn't unlike it, either. Had her power ripped open some sort of doorway when she had destroyed Sa'miel? Or was it the bladestaff's power? Ellone wasn't sure, and she had no idea how to call upon that power again. The burning in her blood had subsided to the faint tingle she had so long been accustomed to. And yet there was something different about it, some fundamental change she couldn't quite put her finger on. And she could still hear the voices…

Ellone brushed her thoughts aside as she noticed that the trees were thinning, and before long she and the dark-haired man had left the alpine forest behind. Ellone saw layers of dark clouds piled in the northern skies not so far away. The moon was a slim crescent that bathed in shades of ghostly blue-white the rocky, snow-strewn slope upon which Ellone and her rescuer descended. Stars glittered in the sky, tiny pinpricks of light perched in the dark firmament. They looked familiar, although Ellone could not have said why.

She looked behind her, but no white-furred shapes loped after them. The line of trees receded into the night, and Ellone let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She faced -forward again, her stomach fluttering as tumbling strands of her rescuer's long hair brushed her cheek. Ellone made no move to push them away.

----------

The sudden explosion of light in the distance bathed the _Illumina_'s bridge in white radiance even hough its source had to have been several kilometers away. Kiros blinked, shaking his head to clear the afterimage, and turned immediately to the pilot.

"Get us to that position, maximum velocity!"

The pilot nodded, and the ship banked to the left as it sped over the Trabia snowfields. Kiros folded his arms over his chest and hoped for the hundredth time that Ellone was alright. The storm had been playing hell on the _Illumina_'s sensors all day, so he and his crew had been left with only their eyes to search with. So far, there was no trace of her. But Kiros would have bet half the Estharian treasury that Ellone had had something to do with the explosion he had just witnessed. He didn't like to think just what, though.

Kiros turned to the woman at the navigator's console. "Anything?"

"No, sir… no heat signatures that I can— wait, something just popped up. About three klicks north of where that light was coming from."

"Is it Ellone?"

She shook her head. "It's an avian lifesign, sir. A chocobo."

What was a chocobo doing out here so far from its home forest? And in the middle of a blizzard? Unless… "Ellone was riding one last time we heard from her. You're sure you aren't picking up any human lifesigns? The bird's alone?"

"Yes, sir. It's the only thing on the screen."

"Well, we'd better pick it up. There might be a clue as to what happened to Ellone." Kiros turned to the pilot again. "Alter course to retrieve the bird, then get to the source of that explosion as quickly as possible. We need to find out what's going on here."

Kiros would have liked to wait for Squall, but with the storm even that twenty minutes might be too long. It was going to take at least half that time just to pick up the chocobo. And if Marissa's killer was indeed out here looking to murder Ellone, as Kiros believed he was, then every minute was vital. Squall would understand.

Who would want to kill Ellone? And why? Kiros had been pondering those questions for some time. Squall had mentioned something about a woman, a dark-haired figure who seemed to have taken an unusual and malevolent interest in Ellone as of late. Could that be it? Who was she? And what did she have to with Ellone?

It hadn't escaped Kiros' notice that his young friend hadn't been herself lately. The last time he'd seen her had been almost three weeks ago, but Ellone had looked haggard even then. With the two full-time jobs she'd been working, it wasn't any surprise. But Kiros had thought there was something else as well, something she hadn't told him or even Laguna.

How long was this going to go on? Kiros had suggested to his old friend that he let Ellone go, at least for a while. Laguna had run things in Esthar well enough before she had come back into his life. There was no reason he couldn't do it again. Kiros couldn't blame him for wanting her around, though. They'd spent over ten years apart, and it wasn't all that surprising that they wanted to make up for lost time.

But it was taking too much of a toll on Ellone, this constant going back and forth between Esthar and Winhill and the constant work in both places. Kiros couldn't let it go on much longer, for both his friends' sakes. Hopefully, Ellone would understand that her dismissal wasn't a reflection on her performance but only a means of helping her slow down her life a little. She had done a lot of good in Esthar, but it was time for her to move on.

Kiros only hoped she would have that time.

It was less than ten minutes later, as the ship was touching down about half a kilometer from the chocobo's position, that the message came in. Kiros didn't like the way the color in the copilot's face suddenly drained like water swirling down a faucet. The message was neither in video nor audio, but single line of text that sprang across the communications viewscreen in bold, pale green letters. It was short and to the point and utterly chilling.

"_WEDDING BOMBED. HEAVY CASUALTIES. FIND ELLONE ASAP."_

"My god…" Kiros breathed.

That must have been all the message Squall had been able to send in the midst of what Kiros knew had to be utter chaos. He read and reread that terrible message, not wanting it to be true but knowing it was. Could he have stopped it, had he been there? Kiros doubted it, but the faint tinge of guilt still nagged at him like a bad itch.

In any case, his purpose out here had not changed. He was still going to find Ellone and bring her back safely to the Garden. But what, exactly, would he bringing her back to? And who would be left to greet her? Kiros didn't like to think just how heavy those casualties Squall had mentioned might be, and if Laguna was among them.

_I wish you were here right now, old buddy. You and Ward both._

But they weren't. Kiros would have to do what he could on his own. And right now that meant catching that errant chocobo and searching for whatever clues it might hold. There was a mild thump as the ship touched down, and as Kiros made his way to the cargo bay, he stifled as best he could the cold fear that had twisted his gut like a knife the moment he had first read that infernal message.

----------

Ellone gingerly pulled her wounded arm from the sleeve of her bloodstained coat. She was leaning against the back wall of the little cave she and her companion had taken refuge in for the remainder of the night. Outside, the storm raged, the wind a chorus of shrieking banshees as it tossed snow everywhere in a blinding haze of whiteness. The sound was somewhat muffled by the rock walls of the cave, but slivers of cold still managed to bite Ellone's skin with fierce, hungry teeth. She shivered.

Her arm still stung from the slashes the leopard's claws had raked across it, a series of deep red furrows that had congealed into a sticky mass of blood and torn fabric from the ripped sleeve of her blouse. Ellone felt for one of her potions, but then realized she'd left them all in Starlight's saddlebag. Wonderful. Ellone was just letting her eyes slide closed for a minute when the sound of ripping fabric drew them open again

"Here," the dark-haired man had torn a long strip of cloth from his cloak and was now tying it around Ellone's arm to serve as a makeshift tourniquet.

She smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Is that better?"

"A little," Ellone nodded. And it was.

The man sat down beside her, his presence oddly comforting in the gloom. Ellone couldn't have said why, though. Only that she felt safe with him. Others might have found him frightening—Ellone had noticed his metal claw and armored boots, and the sweeping crimson cloak fastened over his black clothing—but where they might have seen some sort of nightmarish freak, Ellone saw only a man—quiet and dark and solitary, but a man nonetheless.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "You know, I don't think we ever actually introduced ourselves, did we?"

"We were a little rushed at the time," the man pointed out.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Ellone laughed shyly. "Um… my name's Ellone. Ellone Loire. What's yours?"

"Vincent Valentine."

Ellone liked it. "Well, it's nice to meet you… Vincent."

"And you, Ellone."

She blushed in spite of herself and slid her bandaged arm back into her coat. "So… how long do you think that storm's going to go on for?"

"I don't know. Hours, at least. Maybe more."

"I guess we'll be here for a while, then. Can we make it that long without a fire?"

There had been no point in trying to build one with the blizzard in full force just outside. Any wood she and Vincent might have found would have been soaked, and Ellone didn't think they had anything to light it with, anyway. She would have liked the warmth, but she supposed she would have to rough it for another night.

If Vincent was cold, he didn't show it. He simply sat quietly next to her in the near darkness and stared absently at the opposite wall as he spoke. "Just stay close to me. Our bodies will keep us warm enough."

"I suppose you're right," Ellone replied. "Although it feels a little weird having to be so cozy and all. I mean, we've only just met."

_Not that I mind,_ she added silently. Quite the contrary. But why was that? Ellone found herself almost involuntarily inching closer to Vincent, even though she was already pressing lightly against him. _It's only to stay warm. That's all it is._

But was it? Was it really?

Vincent didn't seem to mind, though. "It's a necessary precaution. Nothing more."

"Right. You're absolutely right, you know."

For a while, neither of them spoke. Ellone slid into a light doze, the warmth of Vincent's body next to hers helping to alleviate the cold somewhat. But a dull ache in her chest brought her out of it, and she woke to find herself rubbing the spot just under her left collarbone where Sa'miel had stabbed her. She reached behind her to massage the back of her left shoulder, where the blade had gone in. That was hurting, too.

"Are you alright?" Vincent saw her wince in pain.

"Just an ache, that's all. It'll go away."

But it didn't. The pain, while mild, still remained. Ellone could still feel the bite of cold steel cutting through her heart. Her body didn't want to forget that moment, even if she did. It wasn't something she cared to relive. But why did it still hurt? The bladestaff's power had healed the wound just at it had healed her leg. Hadn't it?

Vincent didn't look convinced. His eyes found the dried blood on the front of her coat almost immediately. "How did you survive?"

"Survive what?" Ellone asked.

"I saw the blood earlier. On the front _and_ back of your coat. And the holes. Someone stabbed you recently. Through the heart, by my guess. Am I right?"

Shivering at the memory, Ellone nodded. "Yes. And I didn't. Survive, that is."

"What…?" Vincent stared at her, his eyes wide.

"That thing," Ellone pointed to her bladestaff, which was leaning against the wall to her right, within easy reach, "brought me back. I don't know how. Or why."

Vincent managed to regain some of his composure, but his eyes never left Ellone's. "Remarkable. But… you don't belong here."

"This isn't my world," Ellone agreed. "I've got to find my way home somehow."

"Tell me your tale from the beginning. Leave nothing out."

Ellone hesitated. "Are you sure? It's kind of… hard to believe. I mean, look at what I've told you already. I thought you would be skeptical. I would be."

"Perhaps. But I have seen much that is strange and unusual. And I myself am not what you would consider… normal…"

_What did he mean by that?_

Ellone shrugged off the thought and told Vincent everything that had been happening to her over the past week or so, from her strange dreams to her discovery of the bladestaff to her final fateful battle with Sa'miel on the Trabia snowfields. Vincent listened patiently, quietly, letting Ellone speak at her own pace and in her own time. She had to admit she was touched. Most people would have decided right then and there that she was crazy. It sounded crazy enough to her. But she knew it to be true.

Vincent didn't respond at first, but sat in silence for a while, digesting it all. His gaze wandered away from her, and Ellone understood that he was pondering the veracity of her story. She didn't say anything, content to wait quietly for his inevitable reply. When it finally came, Ellone thought she had never heard anything so wonderful in her life.

"I believe you."

"You do?" Ellone hugged him almost without thinking, relief washing through her like cool blue water. She met Vincent's eyes, her cheeks reddening as she realized what she had just done, and hurriedly pulled away, finding a sudden and immense interest in the cave wall as her stomach fluttered like a kite in a high wind. _Oh, gosh, what did I just _do?

Vincent gently turned her around, his lovely reddish-brown eyes meeting hers. "Ellone..."

Her name sounded so wonderful on his lips. Ellone sighed, a sudden longing springing up in her heart. But it was silly, too ridiculous to even give thought to, and so Ellone squelched it before it could take shape in her mind.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice not quite steady.

"I do believe you. And I will help you get home."

Ellone couldn't believe what she had just heard. "You will? Oh, thank you! But what about your friends? Didn't you say they were in trouble?"

"They are. But our path lies together."

"I'll do whatever I can to help," Ellone promised.

Vincent nodded. "Get some rest, Ellone. We leave as soon as the storm abates. I will keep watch until then."

Ellone didn't argue. Every bone in her body ached for sleep, and while she would have liked to have fallen into her own bed and slept for sixteen hours, Ellone contented herself with the hard rock wall of the cave and the likelihood of catching only about four or five hours of sleep instead of sixteen or eighteen. Hyne, she was tired.

Almost without realizing it, Ellone found herself leaning against Vincent's arm, but by then she was already more than dozing. What was that underneath her head? She didn't remember lying down… but she was warm, or warm enough, anyway. There was cloth, thick and red, blanketing her, and beneath her cheek was more red cloth as well as black fabric and something inside it that felt suspiciously like a thigh. _That sweet man, did he…_

Ellone's thoughts faded away as sleep finally claimed her.

----------

_You again._

_I said we'd talk again soon, remember?_

_Right. But I wasn't touching the bladestaff._

_That doesn't matter. Its power—_my_ power—is within you now. That's why you're alive when you should be dead. And that's why we can talk like this._

_What do you mean? And what about _my_ power?_

_Your power and mine ultimately come from the same source. They're both inside you, and you'll need them both to do what needs to be done._

_Which is?_

_You'll find that out later. But it looks like you made it to the other side in one piece._

_Other side?_

_Just an expression. I'm sure you've realized by now you're not in your own world._

_Yes. You brought me here, didn't you?_

_That's right._

_Why?_

_You'll see in time. If I explained everything now, it would be too much for you. And it's better that you discover it on your own._

_I suppose you're right. But there's one thing I'd like to know._

_What's that?_

_Who are you? And how do you know me?_

_That's quite a long story. One I can't tell you just yet. But I will when the time is right. You do deserve an answer, though. My name is Atrus._

_Atrus?_

_Don't think too much about it now. Just get some rest._

_You won't get any argument from me. I feel like I could sleep for a week._

_I don't doubt it. Now, go on. And Ellone?_

_Yes?_

_Pleasant dreams._

----------

The bird was alright, if a little frightened. It still shook even as Kiros attempted to calm it. Laguna had accidentally spooked one once so badly that it had thrown him right off—this was back in their days together in the Galbadian army so many years ago—and it had been all Kiros could do to keep the poor thing from bolting. Not that Kiros could have blamed it. Laguna's clumsiness was almost as legendary as his inexplicable knack for getting himself and his friends in trouble time and time again.

"Shh… easy, now," Kiros murmured.

The bird in front of him relaxed, but only slightly. Her eyes still darted wildly as though expecting some nasty thing to come springing up out of nowhere to eat her. Had she seen what had happened to Ellone? Kiros thought she must have. Or at least gotten a glimpse of it before running off. He didn't have any further doubts about whether this one was the one Ellone had been riding—the bird was fitted with a saddle emblazoned with the Trabia Garden insignia on the side. Kiros only wished he could find her rider, too.

Maybe the scene of that blast would yield a few clues. Though he was down here in the cargo bay and not on the bridge, Kiros could feel the change in the ship's altitude as it began to descend once more. The first time had been to pick up the bird. Now the _Illumina_ was closing on the source of the mysterious explosion he and his crew had witnessed earlier.

Kiros whispered in the chocobo's ear again as the ship shuddered with a little light turbulence, and it was then that he noticed the two saddlebags. One held a few minor potions, mostly unused but a couple of which were empty. In the other was a bit of food and something else, something that caused a cold knot of dread to rise in his stomach.

It was Ellone's cell phone.

Flipping open the baby blue case, Kiros turned it on and paged down to the last call Ellone had made. It was to Squall, the same one he had received earlier this very day. She had missed a few calls as well. Either because of the storm or because she was no longer there to answer. Kiros hoped it was the former.

A muffled thump from below told him the ship had landed. Moments later, the cargo bay doors slid open with a hiss of hydraulics, revealing the vast whiteness of the Trabia snowfields. A rush of cold air swept inside and bit at Kiros' skin. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and braced himself to step outside. A memory rose to the surface of his mind as he headed down the ramp. Though it should have been amusing, Kiros instead found it oddly disquieting.

He was thinking of the first time he had come to Trabia. That had been what, twenty years ago? He and Laguna and Ward had been trying to find a way into Esthar. Then, as now, Kiros had been searching for Ellone. He and his friends had almost run out of money when that movie job had come up. They'd managed to earn enough to keep going before the film stopped production rather abruptly—in part due to Laguna's penchant for stumbling into the worst kind of trouble at the worst possible time.

Kiros and Ward had been assigned the part of the dragon that Laguna's knight character was to slay. Unfortunately, the mountains of Trabia—which was where the movie had been shot—had also been home to some all too real ruby dragons. One of them had scared Kiros and Ward half to death when it prowled onto the set one day.

Laguna, in his typically quirky fashion, hadn't even realized the thing was real. It was only when the rest of the cast and crew had fled that he had at last realized the truth. His nicking at the thing's nose with his prop gunblade had only enraged the beast even more. It had torn through the set until finally Kiros and Ward had managed to catch up with Laguna and fight it off. That had been a difficult battle, and they'd discovered then that the ravine wasn't home to just one dragon, but a whole _nest_ of them.

There were no dragons in this part of Trabia, at least none Kiros was aware of. They preferred the mountains over the plains and low hills. But it wasn't dragons that concerned him. Whose domain had they entered this time? What dark thing lay behind today's terrible events? Kiros had the uneasy feeling that something far more dangerous than a dragon might be waking this time. The excavations in Centra, Ellone's disappearance, and the bombing—there was something behind them. Something terrible.

Whatever it was, Kiros was determined to find it. He walked outside into the frigid Trabian night, his boots crunching in the snow. A half dozen of his crew followed, and while this area looked no different than most, there was something odd—perhaps in the air—that told Kiros this was the place. It wasn't long before he found tracks, half-buried with fresh snow but still faintly visible. And then he saw the blood.

----------

_What is this feeling inside me?_

The question hovered in Vincent's mind as Ellone slept, her head and shoulders carefully cradled in his lap. He had draped his cloak over her and folded a corner of it into the makeshift pillow upon which her head now rested. Her hands were folded beneath her cheek, and she had unconsciously curled into a semifetal position.

_It's always in the back of your mind_

_When everything is dark, still something shines_

_On a chilly afternoon, you drew a plan_

Vincent held the the cloak over her with his good hand, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her back and chest with each breath she took. He wasn't quite sure why he was doing this, only that for some reason, he didn't want Ellone to be cold. He supposed it was only because of the terrible injuries she had so recently suffered and the risk of shock setting in should they reopen. But somehow, Vincent couldn't make himself believe that.

He felt a warmth inside him that had nothing to do with shared body heat. A feeling he should not have had, ought not to have had. Especially for someone he had just met and barely knew. But he could no more control the yearnings of his heart than he could moderate its beating. Vincent stifled that thought before it could fully take shape and lead him down a road he wasn't sure he wanted to travel again.

_The earth was frozen_

_Ice upon the water_

_All at once you saw her_

_There in the winter light_

But it was so difficult to ignore the softness of Ellone's body beneath his arms, the slight pressure of her breasts against his thighs and waist. Vincent deliberately gazed at the blizzard still blowing outside the mouth of the cave, but as yet it showed no sign of weakening. And snow was already piling up. He would have to clear a path in the morning.

Ellone stirred for a moment, drawing Vincent's attention back to her, but she only shifted her head a little and continued sleeping. He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face with his good hand but didn't remove that hand right away. _I shouldn't be doing this._ Yet he was. And he found that he liked it. He liked it a great deal.

_And the light came bouncing up from stony ground_

_And deep within the earth, you heard the sound_

_Breakin' like a rock, your gloom profound_

Ellone's hair was brown, deep and rich, soft and silky like bundles of fine thread. Strands of it had fallen loose from her ponytail and now hung in unkempt tangles at the back of her neck. It was oddly arousing, a sensation Vincent pushed away in a hurry. But he couldn't help wondering what her hair would look like when it was free of that tail.

His gaze wandered to Ellone's lips. Small, delicate, and rosy pink, they were far more tempting than Vincent cared to admit, their soft folds moist and slightly open with Ellone's whispered breath issuing between them. What would it be like, Vincent wondered, to kiss them? To press his own lips against hers?

_The earth was frozen_

_Ice upon the water_

_All at once you saw her_

_There in the winter light_

Vincent blinked and pulled his eyes and hand away from Ellone with a mighty effort. This wasn't right, thinking about her like this. What would she think if she knew? But she couldn't know. Vincent couldn't _let _her know. She wouldn't understand and might even distance herself from him. That was the last thing he wanted.

He turned back to watch the storm raging outside, even as his heart and mind raged within him, each opposing the other. Vincent kept his eyes away from Ellone for the rest of the night lest his feelings betray him again. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he couldn't let it get in the way of what he had to do. His guns were close at hand should he sense a threat, but there was nothing. Only the muffled wail of the storm.

_There in the winter light_

_There in the winter light_

_Makin' everything look beautiful_

Enfolded within Vincent's red cloak, Ellone slept peacefully.


	13. Casualties

**Chapter 12  
Casualties**

Pain, there was so much pain…

Edea winced and slowly opened her eyes, waiting for her vision to focus. She saw light above her, soft and white and rectangular, and recognized it as an overhead fluorescent. Sliding her gaze to the left, she saw pristine walls of white and pale blue. An IV ran from her left arm to hang on a wheeled metal stand sitting next to a monitor on which her vital signs were displayed as a series of jagged lines. The monitor was beeping at regular intervals, and Edea realized dimly that she was in the infirmary.

What had happened? There was so much fog in her mind. One minute, she and Cid had been standing with Selphie and Irvine as they had started cutting their wedding cake, and the next… Edea couldn't remember. The fog was in the way. Try as she might, she couldn't recall anything beyond the knife plunging into the icing.

She felt something soft and thick and slightly damp against the side of her face. Reaching tentatively, Edea ran trembling fingers over what was a wide swath of gauze bandage stretching from her jaw to her temple. Memory hovered just at the edge of her grasp, not quite there but close enough for her to know that something had happened, something very bad. But what? In Hyne's name, _what?_

"Matron…" a broken voice murmured.

Slowly turning her head, hearing the creaking of tendons in her neck, Edea saw a young man sitting to the right of the bed. Tousled brown shoulder-length hair, a faint red scar slanting downward across the bridge of his nose, a jacket of black leather lined with white fur at the collar. Blue-gray eyes filled with sadness and anger. Squall was looking at her, his expression strained and weary and oddly cautious.

Edea took his hand. "What is it, Squall?"

"You don't remember?"

"I…" she began, then stopped. Her hand left Squall's and traveled down the front of her body to her abdomen. It was flat. But that couldn't be. She was seven months pregnant. Her unborn daughter was sleeping inside her. Or had been, once upon a time. Edea's blood ran cold, her heart pounding as panic took over.

Edea sat up with a jerk, her eyes widening and her fingers clutching her empty belly. "My baby! Squall! Where is my baby!"

"I had to take her out," a new voice explained. Dr. Kadowaki—her plump shoulders sagging with more than weariness—stepped into the room. "You were too badly hurt in the blast, I'm afraid. She's alive, but it's still touch and go."

"I want to see her," Edea insisted.

Squall frowned. "Are you sure that's such a good idea? The baby's in the ICU down the hall. I'm not sure you're up to a walk just yet."

"I'm going to see my daughter, with or without your help."

Edea swung her legs over the side of the bed, realizing for the first time that bandages covered not only the left side of her face but also were wrapped around her lower arm, her ribs, her hip, and the top of her thigh. Sizzling pain assaulted her with every motion, but Edea was not going to be deterred. Clad only in a plain blue hospital gown, she stood and took a few wobbling steps before a wave of dizziness crashed over her.

The room spun around her, and Edea felt her stomach lurch. A hand grasped her arm, then, steady and solid, and the nausea passed. Squall was there, saying no words, needing none. He simply nodded, slid his hand to her shoulder, and helped her walk the endless miles to the room where her baby struggled to live.

Kadowaki went with her, rolling the IV beside her. The infirmary seemed larger than Edea remembered, and not just because of the extensive renovations the Garden had undergone in FH and Esthar after the war. Her legs were like rubber, every step an effort of enormous proportions. The slightly curving hallway seemed to stretch into infinity, and Edea wondered if she would ever reach the end of it.

Eventually, she did. Squall pushed open the double doors with one hand while keeping the other on Edea's shoulder. As she stepped inside the ICU, Edea caught a brief glimpse of herself in the faint reflection from the small square windows in the doors. She had become a bandaged, shambling thing that she no longer recognized as herself. A lump rose in her throat, a hard ball of rock that would not move, and it only deepened as she shifted her gaze to look for the first time upon her newborn daughter.

Sariese Elaine Kramer lay within a glass incubator unit, oxygen tubes running from a respirator to her mouth and chest. Her breath came in tiny, barely audible gasps that would not have been possible without the aid of the machinery. Sariese's eyes were closed, the lashes not yet formed. She had no hair or nails, and a nearby monitor beeped in synch with her frail heartbeat.

Edea dislodged herself from Squall's grasp and walked on unsteady feet over to the glass case in which her baby fought for her life. She was so small, so very small… Edea placed her hands upon the glass, gazing at the little girl with a mixture of wonder and maternal longing. She ached to hold her in her arms, to kiss her forehead and tell her everything would be alright, that her mother was here now.

"Sariese…"

But she couldn't. Sariese was beyond her reach, battling for every breath, and it would be months before she could leave the glass case that was her world. Tears stung Edea's eyes, happy and sad and both at the same time. And as she gazed upon her daughter, memories flooded over her, images of fire and death and the sound of thunder raging in her ears. The smells of smoke and burnt flesh and blood.

Edea wrenched her eyes away from her daughter and fixed them on Squall. "The others, Squall. Are they alright? How badly are they hurt?"

"It's not good…" Squall managed.

"Tell me. I must know."

Silence. For a moment, there was no sound but the steady beeping of Sariese's cardiac monitor and the wheezing of the respirator. Squall opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it again. And Edea knew that it was bad. Very bad. She had never known Squall to be at such a loss for words before. And the last time she had seen him look so broken and wounded had been when he was a child. When Ellone had left the orphanage.

When he had lost someone dear to him.

"Matron…" Squall finally said, "Rinoa, she… she's in critical condition. We don't know if she'll make it or not. And…"

"Go on," Edea took his hands in hers.

He nodded. "We lost Selphie. She and Irvine, they took the brunt of the blast along with… along with you and Cid. Irvine's alive but in pretty bad shape."

Edea had to fight back fresh tears. _Dear, sweet Selphie. And on your wedding day, too._ Such a cruel twist of fate. It was so hard to believe that she was gone. Edea's eyes blurred, unable to hold back any longer. She had loved Selphie, like the other orphans, as though she were her own flesh and blood. How could her bright, bubbly Selphie be dead?

It would be hardest on Irvine. The man had loved Selphie forever, it seemed—even as far back as their orphanage days. This should have been a wonderful day for him, a beautiful day that he and Selphie should have been able to look back on with joy for years to come. But it wasn't. Edea wished it could have been. And then she thought of her own spouse.

"What about Cid?"

"Zell and Quistis and Xu got banged up, but they'll be alright," Squall went on as if he hadn't heard Edea's question, but she knew he had. "Same with Laguna and Ward. But… Nida wasn't so lucky. We lost him, too."

_Nida. Xu will miss you so. We all will._ Nida had always been an unassuming sort, quiet but in a good way. Reliable. Maybe that was why he had been such a good navigation officer. And why Xu had taken such a liking to him. Edea had watched with genuine happiness as their friendship had blossomed over the last year into romance. But now it had been cut short. Too short, by Edea's estimation.

Her children were in pain, both physical and emotional. No wonder Squall was in the state he was in. He had just lost two good friends, and the love of his life was barely alive. Though Rinoa hadn't grown up in the orphanage with the others, Edea had come to accept her as a daughter nonetheless. And also as a protégé. Rinoa was her student as well as her friend, learning what she could about her abilities as a sorceress from Edea, who had been a sorceress herself and whose powers Rinoa now possessed.

But Squall still hadn't answered Edea's question.

She repeated it. "What about Cid?"

Squall didn't answer at first, but instead seemed to find sudden interest in his boots. What was wrong? And then Edea knew. Knew, but found it impossible to believe. She backed away, more tears spilling from her eyes. _No, no, dear Hyne, no! It can't be! It just can't! _But it was. Squall took a deep, unsteady breath and brought his eyes back up to meet hers.

"Cid's dead."

It was as though someone had driven a stake through Edea's heart. She trembled, tears sliding down her cheeks, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. The room spun around her like some freakish carnival ride as her legs turned into rubber and gave way beneath her. She tried to grab her daughter's incubator for support, but her numb fingers simply slid off the glass. Edea's eyes rolled up to the whites as everything faded into nothingness.

----------

Ellone blinked her eyes open, noticing first that she was warm—or relatively so, given the circumstances—and that the storm was over. Light filtered into the cave from outside, the first pale gold streamers of dawn, and the wind was little more than a faint whisper. For a moment, Ellone thought she was back in Trabia. She'd been stuck out here another night and had missed the wedding. But how had she gotten here? And where _was_ here, exactly? Ellone wasn't sure. She couldn't have reached the mountains already, could she? And she could have sworn that she hadn't been alone, that someone had been with her…

"You are awake," a man's voice said.

Then it came back to Ellone in a rush. _All_ of it. She sat up in a hurry, blushing at the realization that she had just been lying in Vincent's lap. His cloak fell away as she moved to sit beside him, and in that moment Ellone almost wished she hadn't moved. The cold bit at her again, even through her thick coat, and she shivered.

She stifled a yawn. Hyne, she was tired. "Yes, I suppose I am. And, um… thanks. For keeping me warm last night."

"You're welcome. Here, take this."

Vincent passed her a bit of food, some of what little remained of the few provisions that were left in the motorcycle. Ellone took the cheese and dried fruit gratefully, her stomach abruptly roaring to life as she realized she hadn't eaten a proper meal in almost two days. Vincent ate as well, sharing with her a small canteen of water. It was a sparse breakfast, to be sure, and cold, but Ellone found it oddly satisfying nonetheless.

Perhaps it was the company. Though he said little, Vincent's mere presence comforted Ellone in a way she could not explain. Or maybe she didn't want to admit just yet what her heart already knew. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, that she was just fooling herself. But when Vincent rose to his feet and took her hand to help her do the same, Ellone couldn't help feeling a rush of warmth at his touch. His gloved fingers were slender and supple, their grip surprisingly gentle as they clasped hers for just that brief moment.

Then, all too soon, they were gone. Vincent let go once she was standing next to him and started packing their gear into the bike. "We must go."

Ellone handed him the last of their things. "Okay. Where are your friends?"

"I'm not certain. But they were heading north. There is a vast crater half a day's ride from here, and on its south face a treacherous bluff known as Gaia's Cliff."

"That's where they're going?"

Vincent nodded. "They have to. And so do we."

----------

Squall sat heavily down in the chair he'd pulled up next to Rinoa's bed in the infirmary. Matron Edea hadn't woken from her faint yet, but that was probably for the best. The shock of finding out that not only had two of her surrogate children just been killed, but also her husband, must have overwhelmed her. Squall wished he could have delivered the news better, but how did you do that with something as bad as this?

After carrying Matron back to her room and leaving her to Dr. Kadowaki's care, Squall had returned here almost at once. He couldn't stay long—Kiros was due to contact him soon, and Quistis would doubtless be on her way to give him her preliminary investigation report. She'd gotten lucky—only a few cuts and bruises and minor burns—so after having her down a few potions to patch up the worst of it, Squall had ordered her to go back to the scene of the attack and see what she could find.

It was odd that they'd had to resort to the potions in the first place. Normally, a few cure spells would have done the same job with better effects. But ever since this afternoon, their magic had proven erratic at best. Sometimes the spells wouldn't even work at all. And it was getting harder for Squall to hear his guardians. Those interior voices in his head had gone quiet, and not even they seemed to know what was happening.

Squall's gaze slid back to the girl lying comatose before him. The girl he loved. Did he love her enough to marry her? _Yeah, I do. I just hope it's not too late._ Squall slipped a hand into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small velveteen box. It creaked slightly as he opened it. Inside was the ring he'd had Zell make for him. On top of the gold band stretched a pair of angel wings sculpted from solid silver, and in between them a ten-carat diamond sparkled in the light.

Rinoa had always had a thing for angels—hell, she'd named her dog Angelo, hadn't she?—and while Squall had never quite understood it himself, he knew it was one of those things that she took some quiet enjoyment in. So when he had thought about what sort of engagement ring he wanted to give her, the idea of using angel wings had sprung up almost immediately. Rinoa would like it, and that was all that mattered.

A sudden beep—soft but insistent—drew Squall from his thoughts. It was communications panel on the wall. With the storm, cell phones were all but useless. But the digital relays the Estharian tech crews had installed during the renovations worked somewhat better, if not perfectly, in the inclement weather than the phones.

Planting a soft kiss on Rinoa's forehead, Squall rose but didn't answer the signal right away. His gaze was still fixed on Rinoa. She wore an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, and much of her slim body was covered with bloodstained bandages. Squall took her hand for a moment, not liking how limp and cold it felt, and squeezed it gently. "Hold on, Rinoa."

With an effort, Squall finally pulled himself away and stepped over to the communications panel. He hit a button, and Kiros' dark-skinned face appeared on the screen almost immediately. The bridge of the _Illumina_ buzzed with activity behind him amidst occasional bursts of static from the storm's interference. He looked about as tired as Squall felt.

"We found Ellone's chocobo," Kiros said. "It was running all by itself, heading north. My guess is the bird was trying to get back to Trabia Garden. They're trained to know how to get back there if something happens."

Squall frowned. "What about Ellone herself? Anything?"

"Yeah… but I'm afraid of what it could mean. Just before we found the chocobo, there was some sort of explosion a few kilometers south of the bird's position. After we picked up the chocobo, we went there and checked out the site."

"And? What did you find?"

A pause. Squall heard his heart beat a few times before Kiros finally answered. "The blizzard had covered some of it up, but there wasn't any doubt about it, Squall. There was some kind of fight there not too long ago. And there was blood in the snow. A lot of it."

Squall leaned forward, suddenly afraid. "Are you sure? Was it… was it Ellone's?"

"It was blood alright, but I don't know for certain if it's hers. I'm having a sample analyzed in the ship's medlab as we speak."

"Did you… did you find a body?"

Kiros shook his head. "No, that's just it. There should have been one. Whoever was there lost a lot of blood, but there's no trail to show where the body went. Nothing to suggest it was dragged off or eaten or anything. It's just not there…"

It didn't escape Squall's notice that both he and Kiros had been careful to avoid labeling the missing body as Ellone's. _Please be alive, Sis. I can't bear to lose you, too._ Squall didn't want to think of her as dead, not with so many of his friends already suffering. Hadn't this day been bad enough? He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, where his scar was aching again, and suddenly realized what Kiros had just said.

"How is that possible? Unless… were you able to find out anything about this explosion you saw? How it happened?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid. The ground's not even scorched. It wasn't a normal blast, either. I'd guess it was magical, but I've never seen anything like it."

"I've never heard of Ellone's power doing anything like that," Squall mused, "but there's still a lot we don't know about it. That day when I first started teaching Sis how to fight, she told me it was changing. This must be part of it."

"But what does it mean?"

Squall sighed. "I don't know. All I do know is that she's out there somewhere."

_And it's all my fault. If I hadn't been so hard on her, she'd have never left, and maybe she'd be safe right now instead of shivering out in the cold and bleeding to dea—_ Squall cut off that thought before he could finish it. He would not allow himself to believe Ellone was dead. Not until he saw her body for himself. He couldn't face another loss today. There had already been so many.

"We'll find her, Squall," Kiros assured him. "I promise."

"Keep me informed, alright?"

Kiros nodded. "I will. How's Rinoa? Any change?"

"Not yet," Squall sighed. "She's still unconscious and could go either way. I'm not sure if she'll make it, Kiros. The blast hurt her pretty bad."

"Damn. But don't worry, Squall. She's strong. She'll pull through."

After that first brief yet horrific transmission he'd sent in the wake of the attack, Squall had kept in contact with Kiros throughout the night, apprising him of the situation and keeping updated on the status of his friend's search for Ellone. And now he was beginning to understand why his father had always relied on Kiros' guidance and support so much through the years. It was one of the only things aside from his duties that had kept Squall going today and feeling even remotely hopeful that there might still be some positive resolution at the end of this mess. And speaking of his father…

"How's Laguna holding up? I haven't had the chance to talk to him much aside from making sure he's still in one piece."

Kiros grunted. "Worried sick about Elle, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Yeah. You want to come get him? He and Ward'll be out of the infirmary in a day or two."

"Sure. Just let me know when Dr. Kadowaki releases them. In the meantime, I've got a missing girl to find. I'll contact you later, alright? Kiros out."

The image on the viewscreen vanished, leaving Squall in a quiet as disturbing as it was sudden. He turned back to Rinoa, hating the sight of her lying there unmoving. It reminded him too much of when the sorceress Ultimecia had first taken control of her, the shock of which had left Rinoa in a coma for the better part of a week. Squall had never felt so helpless in his life, and he had hoped he never would again. This was one battle he couldn't fight for her, much as he wanted to. She would have to face it alone.

----------

The long, arduous climb up Gaia's Cliff was every bit as difficult as Cloud had feared it would be. Shrieking winds and scarce handholds had made for slow going, and the paths had shifted somewhat in the years since he had last been here. Every so often, he and Tifa had come to a ledge—more often than not little more than a narrow outcropping of ice and rock—and had sat for a minute to catch their breath, which steamed in the chill air.

Eventually, though, they had found the old ice caves near the top that honeycombed the upper reaches of the cliffs, and with renewed hope, they had navigated their way through them with little difficulty and had encountered few, if any, monsters. The subsequent descent into the crater on the other side had been comparably swift and largely uneventful, for which Cloud felt both glad and uneasy. The place was normally teeming with creatures, especially in the lower depths into which he and Tifa were just setting foot.

Cloud had never had any doubts as to where the Black Materia might be. He would find it in the very heart of the crater, in the same dark depths where he and his friends had fought Sephiroth so long ago that it seemed like another lifetime now. Had it really only been six years? It felt like six hundred, at least. An eternity since Sephiroth had used the Black Materia to summon Meteor in all its fiery, hellish glory.

With each step closer to his destination, the memory of those days grew stronger in Cloud's mind. He half-expected, if he were to turn his head, to see Barret and Cid grumbling on one side and Yuffie, Red, and Cait Sith on the other, bracing themselves for the inevitable confrontation. Vincent would have been, as usual, silent and a little apart.

But there was only Tifa. She had been there, too, and Cloud was glad she was here now. There was no one else he would rather have had with him. She walked next to him in comfortable silence, her gloved fists ready should any fiends present themselves. None did.

They were close now. Cloud recognized the rough, irregular platforms of crumbling rock amidst the sparkling falls of the lifestream plummeting deeper into the crater's central chasm. But there was something odd about the falls, although at first Cloud wasn't sure what it was. They still glowed with that soft, pale green light he remembered. After a moment, though, it clicked. Cloud stopped and gazed uneasily at the falls.

"Tifa, look. Do you see it?"

She did. "Yeah. Something's wrong with the lifestream…"

Within the shimmering white-green radiance were narrow streaks of dark crimson that swept through the lifestream falls like a cancer. Though they were not in themselves very large, Cloud understood that the patches of red were growing, consuming the lifestream. Or maybe the lifestream itself was changing. In any case, there wasn't anything Cloud could do about it right now. He motioned to Tifa.

"Come on, we're almost to the bottom. Let's get the materia and get the hell out of here."

"Lead the way," Tifa agreed.

Cloud did so, and before long he was standing with her on the edge of the central chasm, and what he saw before him didn't ease his mind any. But he thought it did explain why he and Tifa had encountered only a few monsters on the way down here. And why the falls in the previous area had been tinged with red.

The lifestream here was flooded with it.

No longer pale green, the vaporous pool now glowed an angry red that bathed the chamber in fiery hues. Tendrils of scarlet lifestream twisted up from its surface, whipping about the sides of the chasm like the tentacles of some monstrously huge squid. Bodies and parts of bodies lay everywhere. Most were of monsters, but a few were human. Or had been. Cloud couldn't quite tell anymore. Something had ripped them apart.

Tendrils whipped through the air mere centimeters from Cloud's face and feet. He whirled, grabbing Tifa and spinning her around so he was between her and the raging lifestream. Cloud shielded her with his back as chunks of rock flew everywhere. The ledge trembled and shook as the whiplike strands of the lifestream ripped it apart piece by piece. One of the strands coiled around Cloud's ankle, and he fell with a jerk onto his stomach.

"Shit! Tif, get out of here!"

But she didn't. Instead, Tifa grabbed his wrist in both hands. "Not a chance, Strife! We're in this together, remember? Now get your ass up!"

Where was his sword? Cloud fumbled for it with his free hand, but before he could lay his fingers on it, another of the crimson tendrils snaked around his arm and yanked it so hard he felt his shoulder crack. Then there was another, and another. Soon his legs, waist, and arm were completely ensnared as the crimson filaments pulled him over the edge.

Tifa's grip on his wrist kept him from falling in, though, and for a moment Cloud just hung there like the rope in some twisted game of tug-o-war. He strained to reach his other arm—the one wrapped with scarlet coils—up to Tifa, but the lifestream's hold on him made every centimeter an effort of monumental proportions.

And then he saw it.

----------

"How are you feeling, Kinneas?"

Irvine groaned, every part of him in some kind of pain, or at least it felt that way. He was in the infirmary, bandaged and with an IV sticking from his arm. Memories floated in his mind, fire and smoke and screaming, so much screaming. He was alive, though. Somehow, he was alive. But right now, Irvine wished he wasn't, wished the blast had taken his life along with Selphie's. That way they could at least still be together.

But fate hadn't been that kind. And here was another cruel twist come to haunt him. He'd thought that if anyone were to be visiting him now, it would have been one of friends. Those that were still on their feet, that was. But the voice that had addressed him belonged to someone he hadn't thought of in years, someone who had once been close to him before he had gone and fucked it all up. He sighed.

"Sara? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd be, like, stayin' with Zell. He got hurt, too, you know."

"He's in better shape than you are, and besides, he's in a meeting with the commander right now. So answer my question, already."

Irvine grimaced. "Like I just got run over by a behemoth. Satisfied?"

"I mean, about Selphie. You want to talk about it?"

What the…? Irvine blinked and turned his head to look at Sara. She was in her SeeD uniform, her thick braid of golden hair hanging over one shoulder, and her green eyes were as hard and beautiful as he remembered. He'd seen her at the wedding and a little in the days just prior to it but had deliberately avoided her as much as he could. No use bringing up old wounds, especially when he was about to marry the love of his life.

But now Selphie was gone. And Irvine felt as though someone had ripped out his heart while it was still beating. Sara, perhaps. She had reason enough. Not that he felt like getting into it now. He wasn't in the mood for reminiscing, especially about _those_ days. He didn't like who he was then, or some of the things he had done.

Irvine sighed. "Since when did that matter to you, Sara? Since when did anything about me matter? I know you hate my rotten guts."

"Yeah, I do. But even so, there's a part of me that still cares about you."

"That so? Have you told your new boyfriend all about your old one yet? Told him all about our fun times in Galbadia before I left to chase down the sorceress with him?"

Sara's eyes narrowed. "No."

"So I guess that means he doesn't know who you really are, then, does he? I mean, whose daughter you are."

"No. And you're not going to say a word, Kinneas. Got that?"

Irvine shrugged, wincing at the sudden pain the motion caused. "It's your problem, Sara, not mine. Do whatever the hell you want."

"So do you want to talk about Selphie or not?" Sara asked.

"No. Not to you, not to anyone. Just, like, get out and leave me alone, alright?"

Without waiting for an answer, Irvine slid his eyes closed and tried to ignore the pain both in his body and in his heart. He didn't want to even _think_ about Selphie right now, because if he did it would make the terrible fact of her death real, totally and truly real. And that was something he couldn't deal with yet.

Sara's voice was oddly soft when she spoke again. "Alright, Kinneas. I just thought you could use a friend right now. Maybe that's not what we are anymore, but… I can still remember what we had. And I know what it's like to lose someone, too."

Damn. Irvine wished she hadn't said that last. It was too painful a reminder. He didn't think she had meant it that way—Sara was many things, but she never took pleasure in causing anyone pain, least of all him—but it hurt, all the same. _Why the hell did you have to come back into my life, Sara? And why now? Why _now,_ dammit?_

He sighed and let sleep claim him.

----------

It was there, just below him. For a moment, Cloud forgot all about the crimson tendrils that had snaked around his body. Wedged in a crack in the rock wall near his foot, the shimmering black orb glistened a dark ruby red with reflected light. But how to get it? Cloud stretched toward it with his leg, but the Black Materia was just out of reach. _Damn! How the he—_

"Tifa!" he called, an idea springing up in his mind. "Let go!"

"_What?"_

"I don't have time to explain, just trust me!"

Tifa released her grip on his wrist, and Cloud had just enough time to glimpse her leaning forward at the edge of the precipice before he fell. He waited for just the briefest moment, then snatched out his free hand and grabbed the shimmering black orb. Just as he'd hoped, Cloud felt his downward momentum suddenly stop as the materia's power held him suspended in midair. The lifestream abruptly fell away, its maddened tendrils oddly repelled by the dark sphere lying in Cloud's hands.

The Black Materia. Cloud hadn't wanted to hold the blasted thing ever again, but fate hadn't been so kind. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time he'd had the cursed object. Under the strain of Sephiroth's manipulation and his own fractured mind, Cloud had floated up to the ceiling of chamber and given his nemesis the very artifact he had needed to complete his mad scheme.

Sephiroth was long since dead, but the memories swam in Cloud's mind once more as he held the Black Materia. It was as unpleasantly warm as he remembered, almost as though it were alive. And its power was still potent. Cloud used it to drift up and land on the ledge next to a bewildered but very relieved Tifa.

"It's alright, Tif. I've got it."

Tifa threw her arms around him so tightly Cloud thought she would squeeze the life out of him. "You crazy bastard! You could have been killed! Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!"

For a moment, Cloud just stood with her, sliding his arms around Tifa's waist and holding her close. She clung to him, the rapid beating of her heart the only thing Cloud was aware of. Neither he nor Tifa spoke for some time. Words were unnecessary, almost intrusive. Cloud reached up, gently grasped the nape of Tifa's neck with his free hand, and pressed his lips to hers in a fervent kiss. She returned it passionately.

Eventually, Cloud pulled away but didn't let Tifa go just yet. He needed her near him for just a moment longer. "It _was_ a little insane, wasn't it?"

"A _little?_ If you _ever_ pull anything like that again, I'll kick your ass!"

Cloud stroked her cheek. "I'm right here, Tif. I'm fine. Everything's going to be alright."

"Not if you keep taking stupid risks like that!" Tifa scolded him. "It isn't like the old days anymore, Cloud. I won't let you die and leave me to raise our ba—"

Tifa cut herself off, stumbling back with a muffled gasp and abruptly looking away. The sudden silence was deafening and vaguely uncomfortable. Cloud gazed at her for a moment, his mouth slightly open. _What's going on here, Tifa? What didn't you mean to say? _And then his eyes widened in sudden comprehension.

"Are you… Tifa, are we…?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm pregnant…"

----------

Squall paced restlessly in his office next to the bridge, not wanting to be away from Rinoa but knowing he had no choice. Duty, that harshest of taskmasters, was calling yet again. It had been a little over eight hours since the attack, and half of his close friends and colleagues were either dead or seriously injured. The other half stood before him now.

"Where is he?" Squall asked. He didn't need to specify who.

Xu's voice was thick with grief and barely suppressed anger. "We have him in a holding cell in the disciplinary block, sir."

"Good. We're going to go have a talk with him very soon. I want answers."

Denham. The lunch lady's kid had come forward about two hours after the attack and confessed to planting the bomb. He hadn't said anything else, though, but Squall knew there had to be more to it. Denham hadn't struck him as being unhappy in Garden. On the contrary, ever since his return during the war, he'd enjoyed himself here and excelled at all of his classes and training drills. So why would such a promising student commit such a betrayal?

It wasn't just that Denham had betrayed the Garden. Squall himself felt personally betrayed, perhaps because he was the SeeD commander and Garden's leader, but also because of the terrible and deeply personal loss Denham's betrayal had brought about. And Squall just did _not_ like being lied to. And that was, in essence, what Denham had done to him. He had betrayed the very principles upon which the Garden had been founded.

And he hadn't been alone.

Denham didn't know it yet, but his coconspirator had also come forward not long after he did. Lily's betrayal came as even more of a shock to Squall than Denham's. But perhaps, now that Squall thought about, not so surprising at all. The two had been getting closer over the last year. Being with Rinoa had taught Squall how to see things like that, connections and ideas he had never thought about before.

Fortunately, Zell hadn't found out yet. And Squall intended to keep it that way, at least for now. Lily and Mark were in separate holding cells in two different wings of the disciplinary block. That way, Squall and Xu could get each of their stories separately and then compare them to see how they fit together. In the meantime, there was the matter of the bomb itself.

"You don't think he did this for his own reasons?" Quistis asked.

Squall shook his head. "There's more going on here than it looks, I'm sure of it. Xu and I will find out what he's hiding."

"What do you need me to do?"

"You said the bomb's Galbadian in origin, right?" Squall had had her run several tests on the charred metal disc that had been recovered at the scene of the attack.

Quistis nodded. "Yes, although I've never seen anything like it before."

"But, dude, why didn't the alarms go off?" Zell scratched his head. "Don't the security sensors at the exits pick up on stuff like that?"

"Normally," Quistis agreed, "but I believe this device didn't actually have any explosive parts in it at all. I found distinct paramagic signatures in the metal."

Xu blinked. "You mean it cast some kind of fire spell? That's all?"

"Basically. The bomb was little more than an elaborate amplifier, giving the spell a strength about twenty to thirty times its normal destructive capacity."

"I didn't know the Galbadians had anything like that."

"They don't," Squall frowned. "At least, that they want us to know about. I'm guessing it was probably a prototype. But we have to find out for sure."

Quistis was the only one who knew what was coming next. Her SeeD uniform was as crisp as ever, and in her blue eyes there were no tears. She was always the level-headed one, the voice of reason. If she was grieving—and Squall knew she was—Quistis hid it well. She knew she had a job to do, and perhaps it would distract her from the pain for a while. Squall hoped so, for both of them. He could use a little distraction himself right now.

Her blond hair for once unpinned and hanging freely down her back, Quistis met Squall's gaze and sighed. "Are you sure about this, Squall?"

"I don't like it any more than you do, but you know we've got no choice."

"What's goin' on?" Zell wondered.

Squall turned to him. "You and Quistis are going to do some reconnaissance in Galbadia. But you'll need help. Sara's already agreed to go. I'm sure you're aware that she grew up there, so she knows her way around. But that won't be enough."

"Whoever supplied the bomb must have had contacts in the Galbadian military and possibly the Garden there as well," Quistis added. "So we need someone who knows both of them inside out. Irvine's still too badly hurt, so there's only one other person who can come with us who has that kind of knowledge."

"Surely you don't mean—" Xu began.

Zell's eyes widened. "You can't be serious, man!"

_If only I wasn't,_ Squall thought. But he was. "We're heading to Balamb to pick up the last member of your team. And that's—"

"Seifer…" Zell finished glumly.


	14. Blood & Ice

**Chapter 13  
Blood & Ice**

"You said she vould be mine!" Odine snapped, bouncing with barely restrained fury. "You promised! Vat nasty game are you playing vith me?"

Gravheine suppressed an urge to strangle the man. He reminded her of an ill-tempered dog, and that ridiculous collar of his only made the image stronger. Of course, he did have a right to be upset. She _had_ promised Odine that the Loire girl would be given to him, after all. _After_ he had held up his end of the bargain. But that was before Gravheine had felt the girl's power stirring. She hadn't thought it would wake so soon, but it had.

Thus she had sent Sa'miel to kill her.

Only things hadn't turned out the way Gravheine had expected. The girl was stronger than she had anticipated. Much stronger. And she had destroyed Sa'miel, impossible as it was to believe. But Gravheine had felt the assassin's demise, had heard in her thoughts his last, shrieking cry as the girl's power had ripped apart the dark fabric of his essence.

Gravheine fixed her slitted gaze upon Odine, noting with satisfaction how he wilted under that reptilian stare. "I said she would be yours, and she will be."

"But zen… vy did you try to have her killed, my lady?" he asked warily.

"That is no concern of yours. And I find it interesting that you found out so quickly about the girl's disappearance."

Odine shifted nervously. "I have contacts in ze Garden. Zey informed me. And I concluded zat you must have had something to do vith it."

"Very perceptive. But from now on, you will keep out of my affairs."

"Yes, my lady. My apologies."

The man was a toad, but Gravheine reminded herself that for the time being, she needed him. At least until all the tombs were found. Only two remained. She'd have searched for them herself, but the Coven's powerful magic hid them from her. The sisters had taken many precautions to prevent what Gravheine was attempting, the revival of the one they had given their lives to seal away. It would be a pity to undo such fine work, but Gravheine had no choice if she was to follow her Queen's will.

She stood in a shadowy corner of Odine's lab in Esthar, her eyes traveling from the annoying little scientist to the bank of computers lining the far wall and the series of clear glass cylinders standing in a row beside them. Within each of the miniature statis units hovered a shard of sparkling crystal, their facets twinkling with some inner light. There were twelve such units, ten of which held a crystal fragment. The computers beeped and whirred as they analyzed the complex structure of the fragments, and a high resolution viewscreen just above the computers displayed a dizzying array of numbers, equations, and diagrams. Foremost among the latter was a large, three-dimensional extrapolation of the assembled shards that Gravheine recognized at once, incomplete though it still was.

The crystal. The binding force which kept her Queen imprisoned.

Gravheine marveled at the sheer amount of raw power it must have taken for the Coven to shatter the precious artifact. It had been an ingenious plan, she had to admit. Destroy the very key that they had used to lock the goddess away. And one by one, the sisters of the Coven had gone to their graves, each taking a shard of the crystal with them, never to be found again. Or so they had hoped.

"You will tell me immediately when the last tombs have been found," Gravheine ordered, returning her gaze to Odine. "Is that clear?"

He nodded obediently. "Yes, of course. Vas zere anything else?"

"The attack on Garden. I assume you know of it."

"Yes. Zat vas also your doing?"

Gravheine narrowed her eyes. "A precaution. Loire is dangerous, but she is not the only one we need be wary of."

"Ze sorceresses. Kramer and Heartilly. But zey survived."

"That will be remedied," Gravheine's voice was laced with steel. "Shortly."

Odine looked doubtful, though. He tugged his little beard. "Your mind tricks did not subdue zem. Or Ellone, eizer, I presume."

Gravheine moved before Odine even knew what was happening. One moment, she was in the corner, shrouded in gloom with her arms folded beneath her breasts. In the next instant, Gravheine was halfway across the room, slamming the wretched little dog of a man against the computer consoles and lifting him at least a dozen centimeters off the floor, her amber eyes blazing with cold fury.

"_Do _not_ push me…"_

Odine gasped for breath. "My… my lady, I—"

"I know well enough of my failures, and I have no need of a sniveling wretch like you to point them out! You will do _exactly_ as I have told you, and you will say not another _word_ out of line. If you want control of Esthar, if you want Ellone back in your miserable laboratory, you will keep that tongue of yours under control. Or I will rip it out. _Do you understand?"_

As she spoke, there was a soft hissing, and from the sleeve of Gravheine's dark cloak slithered a viper, its black scales glistening in the light. H'soth weaved his way down her wrist to stare at Odine with cold, glittering eyes, his forked tongue flicking in and out from between his curving, razor-sharp fangs. Odine's face paled noticeably.

"Yes, yes, I understand, my lady! I vill speak vith respect! I svear!"

"Good. See that you do."

Gravheine let him go, and he dropped to the floor in an undignified heap. H'soth, meanwhile, coiled himself loosely around Gravheine's arm and shoulders. She kissed the top of his head fondly and stroked his scaly spine as she turned to the man quivering on the floor. "Get up, doctor. We are not yet finished."

Rising shakily to his feet, Odine swallowed. "Yes, m-my lady?"

"You have one week to find the last two tombs. The crystal fragments should lead you straight to them, for they are highly attuned to each other's presence."

"As you vish."

Gravheine nodded. "Is the Sorceress Memorial ready?"

"It vill be, I assure you. Ze preparations are almost complete, but ve have only ever used it to contain a sorceress before. Ze artifact you seek iz of a highly sensitive nature, and zer is no way to know how it vill react to ze stasis fields vithin ze Memorial."

"Leave that to me. When you have it, do _not_ attempt to open it. It cannot be opened save by means of the key which I will provide. The stone I spoke of before."

Odine scratched his head. "Vat did you call it? A black… materia?"

"Yes," Gravheine replied. "and that is all you need know."

"Of course. Vas zat all?"

It was, more or less. And Gravheine didn't want to be near the man any longer than she had to. But necessity had driven her to use him as she had used so many others. Especially now, when all the work and effort of her long years of solitary exile were soon to come to fruition. But before she left this place, she had one last thing to take care of.

Gravheine had made a promise to this witless cur Odine, and regardless of her feelings about it, she would not go back on her word. She always did what she said she would do. It was, perhaps, the only part of her old self that still lived, the only glimmer that remained of who she had once been. A woman who in all other aspects had died long ago.

Shaking off those disturbing thoughts, Gravheine turned her attention back to Odine. "For the moment. When you have completed your tasks, I will see to it that both Esthar and Ellone fall into your hands as promised."

"Thank you, my lady," Odine bowed.

"The last two shards will be thanks enough. Once we have all of the artifacts, events will move quickly. Make certain you are ready."

Odine nodded. "I vill."

Not wasting her breath on any further reply, Gravheine melted into the gloom once more. The lab had been brightly lit, but her presence had engulfed the place in murky shadows. She fell into herself, willing the rift to open. And so it did, the air rippling around her like a heat haze. The familiar sensation of falling enveloped her, making her stomach churn as it always did when she traveled this way.

The lab faded away, and Gravheine concentrated on her destination. She had work to do on the other side. The ice maiden would have the key before long. Another promise to keep. But it was a burden Gravheine had accepted, and with much more certainty than her bargain with Odine. She knew all too well the pain Iseldra had suffered, the pain of a loved one lost. And so Gravheine had readily agreed to help her.

Only the briefest of seconds passed before Gravheine saw snow-laden trees fading in around her. A rugged mountain slope, the air thick with the smell of pines. The wind, a shrill teakettle whistle in her ears. Gravheine stood on a wet outcropping of rock and inhaled deeply, savoring the untamed beauty around her. As far as she was now from what she had once been, Gravheine had never been able to deny this part of her heritage, this deep and abiding love of the natural world. Nor had she wanted to.

Yet she would let it all perish if it would bring back the man she loved.

----------

Tifa and Cloud crested the lip of the crater to see the sun dipping in its slow westward descent in the late afternoon sky. Tifa paused for a moment to catch her breath, still stunned that she'd let slip her secret. She'd have told Cloud eventually, but she had wanted to wait until after this crisis was over. But there was no helping it, now. He'd spoken little since learning of her pregnancy, but his silence was more contemplative than uneasy—Tifa knew him well enough to read his moods. Cloud was still trying to take it all in.

Tifa had miscarried the last two times she'd been pregnant, and while she hoped she would carry this one to term, she couldn't escape the nagging fear that she would lose it like she had the others. Either naturally or—if something went wrong in their confrontation with the ice witch—violently. Tifa had nearly lost it once already, to the snow leopards. But she had been lucky. Their claws hadn't cut her far enough or deep enough to reach her womb.

_I can't count on that kind of luck again, but… I can't abandon Marlene, either._

Pulling her gray jacket tighter to ward off the cold, Tifa followed Cloud as he started the descent down the cliffs. She picked her way carefully down through the rocks and the winding caves and narrow ledges treacherously slick with ice until at last, about halfway down, Cloud motioned for her to stop for a minute. They were inside one of the lower caves, its open mouth yawning open not ten meters away. Tifa halted and sat down with her back to the wall, rubbing her arms and legs to keep them warm.

Cloud sat down beside her. "We'll rest here for a minute."

It was the first thing he'd said to her in over an hour. Tifa took a bit of dried fruit from the pouch on her belt and ate for a moment before replying. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It's just… I don't want to lose this one, Tif."

She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "We won't."

_At least, I hope not. No, I can't think like that. I _won't _lose another baby. Not again. _She would just have to be careful. Tifa would fight if she had to—Marlene needed her—but she wouldn't go looking for such a battle. Still, the ice witch might not leave her any choice. Tifa didn't think the woman could be trusted to hold up her end of the bargain.

"How can you be sure?" Cloud sighed. "I mean, you did everything right before, the last two times, but you still miscarried. It's me, Tif. I know it is."

_Was that why you lashed out at Denzel that day? Because you were angry at yourself? Blaming yourself for what happened?_

It had to be. But how could he think that? "What do you mean?"

"It's the Jenova inside me. Something about those damned cells keeps the baby from growing and kills it. It's her curse, I think. On us. For beating her."

"Even if that's true, Cloud, it's not your fault," Tifa laid a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at her. "It is, Tif. I know it is."

Tifa eyes narrowed. How could he even _think_ that? "If anyone's to blame, it's that alien bitch! And Hojo for putting her inside you. This might be their last little bit of revenge on us, like you said, but I'm _not_ going to let them have it anymore! And you're not either, Strife. We _will_ find a way to save our baby."

"Just be careful when we meet the ice witch again. I don't suppose there's any way I could talk you into heading back to Holzoff's cabin?"

"You'd be wasting your breath."

Cloud smiled faintly. "I thought you'd say that."

Leaning in close, Tifa briefly touched her lips to his. "We're having a baby, Cloud. You and me. And nothing's going to get in the way of that."

"Got any ideas for a name?"

"No, not really. I hadn't actually thought about it. You?"

Cloud shook his head. "No, but there's still time. Nine months, right?"

"More or less," Tifa agreed.

"Yeah. But we have to get moving. Marlene's expecting us."

Tifa's expression sobered immediately. She rose to her feet, her fists clenching and unclenching as she stretched her arms and legs. They'd gotten a little stiff from sitting down, and Tifa wanted to be ready for the worst. Cloud stood up, reached over his shoulder to loosen his sword, and motioned to Tifa. She nodded and followed him out of the cave.

----------

"How long ago were they here?" Vincent asked.

Holzoff rubbed his chin. "About eight hours or so, thereabouts. They didn't stay long, though. 'Course, I can understand why."

The grizzled old climber was smoking a pipe and sitting at ease near the hearth. It was a small cabin, but cozy. Ellone wished she could have savored the fire's warmth longer, but time was short. Vincent had explained to her the situation during the ride here. And she would be damned if she was going to let another little girl suffer like she had. Memories of her captivity in Odine's lab so long ago still haunted her dreams from time to time.

"Do you think they're in the crater?" she asked.

Vincent nodded. "Perhaps. But it is the ice maiden that concerns me. She is the one holding Marlene captive. I must find her quickly."

"You mean _we_," Ellone corrected gently.

"I did not wish to speak for you. You may stay here, if you wish."

Ellone shook her head. "I'm coming with you. I was kidnapped once myself when I was little. It was horrible. I know how frightened Marlene is right now, because it's exactly how I felt when it happened to me. I have to help her, Vincent."

"Then we will save her together," he agreed.

She didn't know quite why, but her skin tingled with warmth at his words. Vincent's reddish-brown eyes gazed at her resolutely, and she nodded. Ellone felt her heart hammering in her chest. _It's just because you're about to go into another battle. You're anticipating the fight with the ice witch, that's all. _But somehow she couldn't quite believe it.

Holzoff took a puff from his pipe. "You two had best get on, then. If they went up into the crater, they're liable to be on their way back, now. And that Snow's waitin' for 'em."

"Right," Ellone answered. "We'll hurry. And thanks."

"My pleasure, miss. Helpin' folks out here is what I do, and I've known Cloud an' Tifa for some years now. Vincent too. I'll tell you all about it when you get back."

Ellone smiled. "I look forward to it."

"We will return shortly with our friends," Vincent promised.

"And Marlene," Ellone added.

She and Vincent shared a single, determined glance, and for a moment the butterflies were back inside her, so strong she thought they would lift her off the floor. Her skin prickling, Ellone hurriedly looked away and followed Vincent outside. The cold and the biting wind brought her back down to earth almost immediately, although her heart was still beating fast.

Ellone shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her as she and Vincent made their way to the cliffs on foot. The motorcycle would be no good there, and the roaring of the engine would give away their presence. What they were counting on was surprise—the ice witch wasn't expecting them, and that could work to their advantage.

To the north, the looming wall of ice and rock that Vincent had called Gaia's Cliff rose up out of sight. And beyond it, the crater. Ellone wondered how Holzoff could stand living so close to it. The base of the cliff was only about an hour's walk from his front door. But he was a mountain climber, wasn't he? Ellone supposed that might explain it.

She had only taken a few steps when a bolt of pain suddenly seared through her chest. Ellone gasped and doubled over, clutching the wound that should have been healed. For a moment she couldn't breathe, the pain so intense she thought her heart had stopped. A vision—no, a memory—flashed through her mind in an instant and was gone. The feel of the blade ripping through her flesh, the sight of her blood pouring out onto the snow.

"Ellone!" Vincent's voice was distant, someplace faraway.

_Ellone! Be careful!_

"Atrus…?" she wondered. How could she hear him now?

_She's coming! You have to hurry!_

The pain faded as suddenly as it had appeared, though not entirely. A faint, dull ache remained, a cold throbbing in her chest that would not leave. Ellone straightened, realizing for the first time that cold sweat coated her face. What was happening to her? Strong arms held her steady, and she looked to her left to see Vincent not a foot away, his handsome, expressionless face betrayed by the concern reflected in his reddish-brown irises.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think so," Ellone nodded. Suddenly, she remembered Atrus' warning. Her head snapped up. "Come on, let's go! We're out of time!"

Vincent frowned. "Why?"

"She's coming, Vincent! The woman I was telling you about. She's here!"

----------

It was dark in the infirmary.

The only light came from a nightlamp over the bed, its soft white glow doing little to illuminate the patient sleeping beneath it. Rinoa's features were calm, her breathing more even. Her condition seemed to have stabilized, at least for the moment, and the oxygen mask had been removed. Her chest rose and fell with each inhalation, and her hands lay warm at her sides, an IV still trailing from one. The beeping of a heart monitor was the only sound.

Then there was another.

From an air vent near the ceiling, a soft, sibilant hiss. Something dark weaving through the grate. Glistening scales absorbing the gloom rather than reflecting it. Feral, amber eyes with slitted, knifelike pupils. Curved, razor-sharp fangs gaping open and slick with venom. A forked tongue

flicking in and out, in and out, tasting and testing the air and its faint mixture of smells—industrial cleaner, disinfectant, rubbing alcohol. Across the ceiling it went, a black slithering thing more demon than reptile.

The snake wove its way down the far wall, slipping behind the medical apparatus for a moment before emerging from its base to slide across the floor. Up the side of the bed it went, its curling and not quite solid body disappearing beneath the blankets. Once more it came into sight, black scales sliding across human skin until finally the viper paused, its mouth opening wide as its head hovered over the back of Rinoa's wrist.

With a snarling hiss, the snake buried its fangs in her flesh.

----------

The ice witch was waiting for them when they returned.

Cloud paused warily, Tifa close by his side. Without taking his eyes from the blue-haired vixen holding Marlene captive, Cloud reached into the pouch hanging from his belt and took out the Black Materia. It pulsed and throbbed beneath his fingers, a presence possibly more vital and aware than he liked to think. Why had the Cetra created such a thing? Or had they? Given their generally benevolent nature, he wasn't so sure.

"We have it," he said simply.

The ice witch nodded. "Good. You've done well."

She thrust out her free arm—the other was securely wrapped around Marlene, pressing the ice dagger to her neck—and suddenly, the Black Materia flew out of Cloud's hand with a jerk and settled into hers. She looked at it for a moment, her expression not the self-satisfied smirk Cloud had been expecting, but rather one of bitter, weary triumph. Her grip on Marlene didn't lessen, however, and Cloud tensed.

Tifa took a step forward. "You have what you want. Now let the girl go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," the woman replied.

"Let her go!" Cloud's eyes narrowed, and he reached for his sword. But before he could draw it, the ice witch threw her arm out again, and suddenly an unseen fist slammed square into Cloud's chest. He flew back, slamming into a nearby ridge of rock and falling to the ground. He scrambled to his knees just in time to see Tifa land in a crumpled heap next to him. She groaned, but her eyes as she got up were livid.

Cloud whipped out his sword, pressed a hidden switch, and a second blade suddenly detached itself from the first. He took it in his other hand and spun both swords into a ready position even as Tifa brought up her fists. An angry growl of pain split the air as the ice witch abruptly recoiled, her other arm flying out beside her. Marlene had bitten her hand and was running toward Cloud and Tifa as fast as she could.

There was a snarl of rage from the ice witch, a flash of blue-white steel spinning through the air, and Marlene staggered and froze, her eyes wide with shock. A gasp of pain escaped her lips even as Cloud looked on in disbelief. Time slowed to a halt—for a moment, all he was aware of was Marlene, standing less than two meters from himself and Tifa, her body gone suddenly and disturbingly slack. Then, like a wilting flower, Marlene tumbled facedown into the snow, the ice witch's dagger buried in her back.

"_Marlene!"_ Cloud and Tifa's anguished cries came at the same horrified instant.

Cloud was moving before he even realized it, charging the ice witch, everything else a blur. He barely noticed his enemy's own stunned expression, and it was only at the last moment that she realized he was upon her. And he wasn't alone. Tifa was right there with him, the wounded roar issuing from her lips more than a match for his own. Together, blades and fists flying, he and Tifa slammed into the witch.

At first, the blue-haired vixen crumpled under their combined assault, falling back and barely holding up against the rain of blows and cuts raining down upon her. Cloud slashed and jabbed and sliced like a madman even as Tifa let loose with a string of vicious punches and bone-crushing kicks that sent the ice witch pinwheeling backwards.

She recovered more quickly than Cloud had anticipated, however. Ignoring the blood on her arms and side, the ice witch sprang at them so fast Cloud barely even saw her—it reminded him of how Loz, one of Kadaj's two brothers, had often moved while in combat, almost as if he were in two places at once. Her body little more than a blur of motion, the ice witch ducked beneath the arc of Cloud's swords and thrust both hands against his chest.

Bolts of amber energy coursed down her arms as the Snow's eyes went momentarily from red to amber, their pupils narrowing from circles to slits for just an instant. Cloud saw it, felt the raw surge of burning current flowing into his body, and then he was spinning away, crashing to the ground for just a moment before getting to his feet. He looked up to see Tifa also rising, somehow hit almost in the same insant he was.

Together, they turned back to the witch and renewed their assault. The woman was armed this time—a spiked whip of frigid blue hide. It had hung in a neat coil from her belt at first, but now it was in the Snow's hand. Cloud ducked his head to the side as it lashed his cheek, drawing blood. A warning. He dove at her, swords spinning, but she was ready this time. A twin snap of the whip, the crack exploding in his ears, and his blades were deflected.

Tifa's fists and feet followed less than a heartbeat later, catching the witch only for a second. A rib cracked, but then the witch was moving again. The whip snapped, coiling around Tifa's leg and yanking her feet out from under her, the spikes tearing the skin from her calf as she fell. Cloud rushed toward her as she cried out in pain, but the witch was already there, her fist crackling with amber energy and descending toward Tifa's face.

Steel flashed, and the fist hit metal as Cloud dove in between his wife and the witch, swords flying as he blocked the killing blow at the last instant. His heart pounding, his blood surging with adrenaline, Cloud spun and forced the witch back, blades cutting and thrusting so fast she had no chance to dart away. She fended off the blows with her whip, her blue hair flying with the force of her movements, but Cloud was relentless.

He ducked and dodged and cut and slashed, his blue eyes furious as his swords danced around him. He launched himself at the ice witch, pressing the attack even harder. In his mind's eye, he saw Marlene falling to the ground, the curved blue dagger rising from her back. He saw Tifa, her leg bleeding freely where the whip had ripped it open. With a final roar, Cloud launched himself at the ice witch, catching her whip with one sword and pushing it away while plunging the other deep into her stomach.

The ice witch gazed at Cloud in disbelief, the whip dropping from her fingers. Cloud withdrew the blade, now slick with the woman's blood. She clutched the wound, gazing at her bloodsoaked palm in mute wonder, then her legs gave way beneath her. She fell, landing on her back and pulling herself up to sit weakly against the side of a nearby boulder. Cloud sheathed one sword while pressing the tip of the other against the ice witch's throat.

"It's over."

----------

Rinoa screamed.

Squall's eyes flew open—he'd fallen asleep in the chair next her bed after coming back from Denham's interrogation—and saw the black _thing_ on Rinoa's arm. Leaping to his feet, he grabbed the snake and threw it to the floor. It snapped at him, fangs bared, but Squall stepped away from its deadly bite and drew his gunblade. The snake was fast, but not fast enough. A swift downward slice severed the thing neatly in two.

"What's going on?" Dr. Kadowaki rushed in. "I heard screaming!"

"Rinoa's been bitten, doc. By that snake down there."

He sheathed his weapon and hurried over to Rinoa's side as Dr. Kadowaki joined him. Rinoa was shaking, her eyes now open but unseeing. Small murmurs occasionally escaped her lips, pained gasps that tore at Squall's heart. He felt her forehead as Dr. Kadowaki examined the wound. She shook her head and reached for some supplies from the cabinet. "The venom is fast-acting, whatever it is, but it might not kill her right away. We may still have time to save her. She's burning up inside, isn't she?"

Squall sighed. "Yeah…"

"Don't you go blaming yourself for this, Squall. It's not your fault. Now hand me one of those syringes over there. Antibiotics won't cure her, but they'll buy her some time. And she needs every minute she can get."

"She was starting to pull through," he muttered, handing her the needle.

Kadowaki nodded. "I know. I don't understand it, though. Who would want to kill Rinoa? And why? Unless it's got something to do with her being a sor—"

She froze, her eyes meeting Squall's. The same horrifying revelation occurred to him, too. Not waiting for words, Squall ran out the door and into the adjacent room. Matron Edea was sitting up, unharmed and with the puffy-eyed gaze of someone who had just been jerked from a sound sleep. Which of course, she had been.

"Squall? What is it? I thought I heard Rinoa. Is she alright?"

Squall relaxed, though his eyes darted to the corners of the room just in case. But no serpent showed itself. Apparently the one snake had been sent to kill both Rinoa and Edea, if they both had been its targets. Squall didn't think it could have been any other way. He sat down next to Matron, suddenly feeling very tired.

"A snake got in through the vent and bit Rinoa. Dr. Kadowaki's treating her now, but unless we find some kind of antidote…"

"Oh, Squall…" Matron put her hand over his and squeezed it tight.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, where the beginnings of a headache were starting to take shape. Denham had mentioned snakes, the threat of them killing people here in the Garden, but Squall hadn't fully believed it until now. But Denham had met with that woman, the same one who had so troubled Ellone. Surely she was behind all this, but what was she after? Hopefully, Quistis and the others would be able to find some clues in Galbadia once they picked up Seifer tomorrow over in Balamb.

In the meantime, Squall would have to post a security detail here in the infirmary. There was no telling when or if another attempt would be made on Rinoa's life, or Matron's. And he would have the vents covered as well. No more snakes were going to get in _that_ way. _I'm not going to lose anyone else. I've lost enough people already._ Squall's free hand tightened into a determined fist, but at the same time he felt utterly helpless to do anything for Rinoa.

Squall thought of trying to use an Esuna spell on her—such magic was known to cure some poisons and minor diseases—but he gave up on that idea almost immediately. He hadn't heard from any of his guardian forces in days, ever since the attack, and without them he couldn't use his magic. Nor would any of the common curative items like potions and elixirs be any good, either. They had similar effects as some magic spells, but similar limitations as well. They could only do so much. And it wouldn't have made sense to attempt an assassination with a venom that could so easily be purged.

After returning to Rinoa's room to tell Dr. Kadowaki that Matron was fine, Squall knelt and looked at the body of the snake. It was no ordinary thing, he could tell that much. Something like a viper, he thought. Only it had seemed, in that instant before he had killed it, to have had some kind of vicious intelligence behind those amber eyes. Demonic, almost. Were there others like it? Squall would have bet on it.

He rose and took Rinoa's hand in his, not liking how red and inflamed the bite on her wrist was. Already it had puffed up, and it was likely to swell even more before much longer. Squall pushed a few strands of her newly-curled hair from her eyes. It was nice, if a bit different from what he was used to. She was always like that, changing things when he least expected it and always playfully teasing him about it when she did. Sometimes it annoyed him a little, but if it made her happy, he could live with it.

"How long has it been since you've gotten any sleep?" Dr. Kadowaki asked. She was still working on Rinoa but shot a pointed glance in Squall's direction.

He shrugged. "I was sleeping just before this happened."

"In a chair. I'm talking about in bed. Now how long has it been?"

"Eighteen hours, I guess."

Kadowaki turned and put her hands on her hips. "Long enough. Go back to your quarters and rest, mister. You can't do anything to help Rinoa or anyone else if you're not in top shape yourself. The last thing we need is to have you collapsing from exhaustion."

"I'm fine," Squall argued. "Besides, I don't want to leave Rinoa."

"I'll be here with her, Squall, and I'll let you know if anything changes. Now go on! I want you to have at least eight to ten hours, Commander. Not a minute less. Don't make me order you—I _am_ the Garden's chief medical officer, and I'll relieve you of duty if I have to."

Squall gave in. "Alright, alright. Just keep in touch."

"I will," Kadowaki replied. "I'll be analyzing the venom once I'm finished here. If there's any chance of finding an antidote, that'll be our best shot."

"Right. I'll see you in the morning, then."

Giving Rinoa's hand a gentle squeeze, Squall turned and left. Much as he hated to admit it, Dr. Kadowaki had been right. He could use some real sleep, especially after the chaotic events of the past few days. It wouldn't be the same without Rinoa laying next to him, though. He would miss the warmth of her body curled up next to his. Squall took out the engagement ring, looked at it for a moment as he walked through the Garden's halls, and then put it away again. _I should have married you a long time ago, Rinoa._

When this was all over, he would.

----------

"What will you do now?" the ice witch grimaced. "Kill me?"

Cloud shrugged. "That depends on you. I want answers. Give them to me, and you might still walk out of here."

"What do you want to know?"

"Why you did this. Why you took Marle— Shit! Marlene!"

Damn! He'd almost forgotten about her in the midst of the battle. Cloud whirled around, his heart hammering in his chest. Marlene lay unmoving on her stomach not so far away. Tifa was with her now, having dragged herself over to her side while Cloud had dealt with the ice witch. A ragged, winding trail of blood was streaked across the snow in the wake of Tifa's passage. Her eyes met Cloud's—he didn't like how weak they looked—and she nodded. "Do what you have to do, Cloud. I'll take care of Marlene."

He nodded. "What about you?"

"I'll… I'll be alright." Tifa winced as she spoke. Her lower leg was a bloodied mess, and Cloud almost went to her. Her voice stopped him in midstride, however. "Don't worry about me! Just… toss me the materia. I know it's risky, but… it's worth a try."

Cloud took the restore materia from the hilt of his sword and lobbed the little green orb over to her. Tifa caught it easily, managed an encouraging if pained smile, and set to work. Cloud's worried gaze lingered over her for a minute, but she had already focused her attentions on Marlene. Cloud turned to the ice witch.

"I'm listening."

She glared at him. "There is another… she needs the Black Materia. I don't know why. All she told me was to use you to get it. And then kill you."

"Who is she?"

"I've never seen her face, not fully. She keeps to the shadows. I don't even know her name. But she's expecting me. So she'll come. Tonight."

Cloud's expression tightened. "I'll be waiting for her."

"She's much… much stronger than I am," the witch spat. "You won't stand a chance."

"We'll see."

The witch laughed scornfully. "Who do you think gave me my power? She saved me when I was dying, when my kin had left me for dead. I owe her. That's why I did what I did. She promised to help me, when I had fulfilled my end of the bargain."

"Which was?" Cloud asked.

"You know… what I was to do. That, and the Black Materia. In exchange for my son. But now… I've failed. Kill me, if you have any mercy at all. It'll be better than what she'll do when she finds me empty-handed."

Still pressing the blade to the woman's neck, Cloud bent over and reached for the Black Materia. It lay on the ground where the ice witch had dropped it. The snow beneath it had begun to melt, so warm was the orb. Cloud was just closing his fingers around it when a sudden breeze, bitter and chillingly cold, swept through the clearing.

Small clouds of snow rose in its wake and then settled. The light—already dim with the onset of dusk—grew ominously darker, leaving the area shrouded in an unpleasant gathering of murky shadows. The wind died as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving only a heavy silence behind. Cloud glanced around uneasily, his hand moving instantly from the Black Materia to grasp the hilt of his other sword.

Tifa looked up. "What was tha—"

From a particularly dense patch of gloom emerged a figure robed entirely in black. Long strands of straight, jet black hair spilled over her shoulders, and from the depths of her hood, her amber eyes pierced the night air with feral malice, their slitted pupils snakelike and dangerous. She walked almost casually across the snow, leaving no footprints behind and making no sound as she moved. From either hip hung a sheathed, curving sword, the twisting hilt fashioned into the shape of a black serpent with the blade issuing from its gaping jaws.

Searing bolts of amber energy shot out from the woman's hands, slammed into Cloud and hurled him across the clearing. He crashed to the snow as the woman swiftly grabbed Tifa by the throat and pinned her up against one of the broken slabs of rock that lined the clearing. Her lips curling in a cruel, knowing smile, the woman drew her other hand back, tightened it into a fist crackling with energy, and slammed it full into Tifa's chest.

There was a flash, a sizzle of ozone in the air, and the boulder behind Tifa's back exploded. Amber energy ripped across her body, enveloping it, and then, as Cloud struggled to his feet, he saw in growing horror that the woman's hand was reaching _inside_ Tifa, her fingers passing right through her skin and clothes as if they weren't even there. Tifa screamed as the scorching, fiery bolts ripped through her body, and it was that sound—the terrible sound of his wife dying—that finally jolted Cloud to action.

"_Tifa!"_ he yelled.

Drawing his other sword, Cloud rushed in, his weapons ready, but what the woman did next caught him completely off guard. She used Tifa as a living weapon, lifting her by the chest and throwing her right at Cloud. Her battered body slammed him back to the ground as the impact sent his weapons flying from his hands. Gently, he pushed Tifa off of him and looked at her, all else momentarily forgotten.

Somehow, she was still conscious. "Cloud…"

"Don't talk," he told her. "Just stay with me. Stay awake, you hear?"

"I… can't…" Tifa croaked. Her eyes slid shut.

Cloud shook her, but she didn't wake. Her breath was shallow, almost nonexistent, and her pulse was faint. Fury filled him, gave him strength. He sensed rather than saw the woman coming for him. Spinning to the side, he grabbed his swords and sprang to his feet as she drew her own blades. Their flawless, shining steel was inlaid with delicate scrollwork that shone in the gloom. The woman pushed back her hood and fixed Cloud with her strange eyes as her dark hair tumbled around her face.

"So it comes to this," she whispered. Her voice was a soft, husky, and crisply accented. There was a hiss, and a long, glistening black snake slithered out from somewhere in the folds of her robes to wrap itself lightly around one arm. It looked at Cloud with glittering amber eyes not unlike those of its mistress, its forked tongue darting in and out.

Cloud eyed the woman warily. "You want the Black Materia? Come get it, bitch."

"Oh, I will," she replied.

Cloud launched himself at the snake-eyed woman, swords flashing, his blue eyes narrowed. She was ready for him, her own shimmering blades parrying his strokes with ease. Steel clashed on steel as they fought, spinning and thrusting and slicing their way around the clearing. Try as he might, Cloud couldn't penetrate her defenses, and it was all he could do to keep her from overcoming his. Damn, she was good.

The woman moved with the same nimble speed as the ice witch had, flitting from place to place so fast Cloud could barely keep up. Blocking a vicious cut, he swept his blades in a low backhand arc, but somehow she was there, her swords clanging against his to foil the attack. Cloud leapt back, thrusting one blade high and slashing the other across the middle, but the woman was too fast, recovering with inhuman speed, and again Cloud's weapons hit only the steel of her own blades. She smiled viciously, and pain ripped across Cloud's leg.

He staggered, seeing his own blood on her swords and feeling it running down his thigh, and barely got his own swords up to block her next attack. Now she was on the offensive, hammering Cloud with blow after blow. Most he was able to parry or knock away, but a few got through, nicking his arms and drawing a line of blood across his side. By contrast, the woman didn't even have so much as a scratch.

Bracing his legs beneath him, Cloud leaped forward, somersaulting right over the woman's body. He slashed out with his swords as he passed above her, but her blades deflected the attack even as she pressed her own. Cloud landed, rolled to his feet, and swept his weapons up in a vicious double strike. No good. The woman spun around and blocked the attack before it could finish. Her reptilian eyes glittered.

She shot forward so fast Cloud barely had time to bring his blades across to deflect hers, and his arms shook with the impact as he spun back a step. The woman darted around him, the engravings on her swords aglow with amber light, and moved even faster, now just a blur that Cloud could barely see let alone combat. He whirled, dodging and ducking and spinning to keep her at bay, but it was a pace he couldn't keep up forever. How long could she?

Cloud backflipped away, parrying blows as he went, and swept his swords across in a double arc that sent a ripple of bluish-white energy flying at the robed woman. She stood her ground, however, and he landed just in time to see her slice the ripple cleanly in two. Not wasting a second, Cloud charged right at her, leaping into a sideways spin before she could bring her weapons to bear.

Yet somehow she did, turning in that last split second to foil his attack. He swept his blades up again as he landed, but she was already bringing hers crashing down at him. Cloud dove to the side, parrying the woman's attack at the last moment, but not quite soon enough. Fire burned along his forearm as her steel grazed his elbow. Now she leapt over him and stabbed her swords down, slicing a line down his back just as he rolled away. Pain stung at him, but he forced himself to ignore it.

Falling back for a moment, Cloud braced himself, but the woman didn't follow. Instead, she threw her arm forward—the one around which that black snake was still somehow wrapped—and launched her pet straight at him. Cloud dove to the side as the thing's fangs passed mere inches from his face. The snake landed in the snow, somehow unharmed, and lashed out at his feet just as bolts of amber energy slammed Cloud in the chest and threw him across the clearing. Before he could get up, the woman darted to where he was, buried one sword into his shoulder, and pressed the other against his chest.

"You lose," she whispered, and raised her sword.


	15. New Friends

**Chapter 14  
New Friends**

The blow never landed.

A gunshot suddenly ripped through the air, and the woman snarled in pain, her sword flying from her fingers. She let go of her other blade to clutch her wounded hand even as she whirled around to face the attacker. With a grimace, Cloud wrenched her weapon free of his shoulder and staggered to his knees in time to see a familiar face standing at the edge of the clearing, smoke wafting up from the barrel of his gun.

"Vincent!" Cloud exclaimed.

The woman narrowed her eyes but wasted no time trying to fight him. Extending her arm, she beckoned her pet to her, and the snake wrapped itself around her once more. She swept up her weapons and was reaching out for the Black Materia when another gunshot brought her up short. She turned, her reptilian gaze staring balefully at Vincent, but whatever she was going to say died on her lips as she saw his companion.

Now on his feet again, Cloud realized for the first time that Vincent wasn't alone. There was a young woman with him, shorter than Vincent by several inches yet no less formidable for it. Perhaps it was the staff-sword grasped in her hands that made her seem so, or the fierceness in her dark eyes. Her short brown hair was pulled back in a small ponytail, and her coat, once bright white, was now stained with blood and dirt.

"You…" the dark-robed woman murmured.

The girl—Cloud guessed she was in her late twenties, around his own age—took a few steps forward, spinning her weapon into a ready position even as Vincent kept his gun trained on the serpentine woman. The other girl was advancing on her when suddenly she gasped, clutching her chest and doubling over in pain.

Cloud had moved to where Tifa and Marlene lay, so close to death, but he couldn't help looking with concern at the newcomer. Vincent was there, though, his weapon never moving but his eyes locked on his companion. "Ellone?"

"It's alright, I—" the girl named Ellone began.

Suddenly, she stiffened, and her weapon began to glow. Like the snake woman's swords, the blades were engraved with intricate scrollwork. Was that coincidence? They were glowing, their light dazzlingly white, and the girl's eyes suddenly glowed white as well. She straightened, no longer in pain, but no longer herself, either.

Vincent frowned. "What—"

"_Gravheine!"_ Ellone's voice was overlaid by that of a young man, so that when she spoke, Cloud could hear both at the same time. Her attention was on the dark-robed woman.

Reptilian eyes widened. "Impossible…"

"_It's me. I'm here."_

"Atrus?" the woman known as Gravheine murmured.

Ellone nodded. _"Yes. Now stop this madness! I know what you're trying to do, but it won't bring me back. You have to let go."_

"No!" Gravheine snarled. "This is a trick! Get away from me!"

Before Cloud, Vincent, or Ellone could stop her, Gravheine thrust out her arm toward the Black Materia, calling it to her in an instant. Hurling a wide arc of amber energy at Cloud and the others, she faded into the shadows with a wounded cry and was gone. Cloud staggered under the impact of her final attack, but it had only been meant to delay them. It stung him but he stayed on his feet, as did Vincent. Ellone, however, fell to her knees.

The glowing light was gone, both from her eyes and her weapon. She was herself again, but she wasted no time getting to her feet. "Vincent, help me. I think… I think I can save the others, but it's going to take a lot out of me to do it."

Vincent nodded and gently grasped her shoulders. "I am here."

She smiled and then knelt first next to Marlene, whose lay so still in the snow, her breath the barest whisper of sound. The materia didn't seem to have worked, though Tifa had been able to remove the dagger and use one of her own socks as a makeshift bandage before Gravheine had attacked her. The sock was now deep red.

Laying her hands lightly upon Marlene's back, Ellone closed her eyes. Light, soft and white, flooded out from her fingertips like a swirl of tiny comets and dove beneath Marlene's skin, making her look almost like an angel for one brief moment. Holding Tifa in his arms, Cloud watched breathlessly as the bleeding slowed and the torn flesh in Marlene's back began knitting itself back together. Cloud was just daring to hope that she might be okay when a rush of blood suddenly spilled out of the wound and her body stiffened.

"No, come on!" Ellone grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut even harder.

She moved her fingers—now coated with Marlene's blood—right over the ugly gash where the dagger had gone in. Cloud dared not disturb her, not wanting to risk losing whatever chance Marlene might still have. As he watched, Ellone leaned closer to Marlene until she was directly over her and summoned more of the strange light. It dove into Marlene's body, into the wound, pulling and tugging at the torn flesh until it finally knitted itself together.

There was a jolt, and Marlene's body twitched. Another, and another, and Cloud was suddenly reminded of how WRO medics sometimes used an electrical apparatus to rescuscitate someone. _And that's what she's doing, isn't it? Except instead of electricity, she's using… something else…_ But what was it, exactly? Cloud wasn't sure he wanted to know.

After one last jolt, Marlene's eyes fluttered open. "Ohhh…"

"Marlene!" Cloud breathed. "Are you alright?"

She rolled over as Ellone moved out of the way. "I think so. What hap— Oh, no! Tifa! Is she gonna be okay?"

Cloud looked down at his wife's battered body. "I hope so."

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up. It was Ellone. Her voice was ragged, weary but also determined. "Cloud, right? I'll do what I can."

"I know," he nodded.

Ellone leaned close, and for a moment she swooned, nearly pitching forward as the strain of her power threatened to overcome her. But Vincent caught her at the last moment, his hands bracing her and holding her up as she called upon her powers once again. Light spread from her hands into Tifa's body, this time with agonizing slowness. Something was holding it back. A battle waged beneath Tifa's skin, a silent interplay of shadow and light that went on for several anxious minutes. Beads of sweat coated Ellone's skin as she summoned whatever reserves she had left, until at last the bruises and scorches began to fade.

The tear in Tifa's leg closed, the bleeding slowing to a halt as Ellone's power reached it and sealed the wound. Light flared for an instant, a blinding flash that blotted out everything for a split second, and Cloud felt Tifa's body twitch in his arms. Another jolt, and another. Cloud looked down at her, but she wasn't moving, and the light was fading. Ellone slumped forward, trembling yet refusing to stop. She drew a breath, let it out, and thrust her hands down one final time. Light seared out for the briefest instant, briefly enveloping Tifa's body before dissipating, and as Cloud watched, her eyes slowly opened.

"Cloud…?"

He hugged her tight as Ellone fell away. "I'm here, Tif."

"What's going on? I— Marlene! Cloud, what about Marlene? Is she—"

"She's fine. Both of you are gonna be alright."

Cloud gently set Tifa down, helping her sit up as he looked at Ellone. She lay nearby, panting and exhausted, in Vincent's arms. A weak smile played across her lips. "It… it took… more out of me… than I expected…"

"You did fine," Cloud told her.

Pulling herself up close, Marlene looked anxiously at Tifa. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, I am, hon," Tifa answered. "I think we both are."

"Oh, Tifa!" Marlene threw her arms around her for a moment, then noticed for the first time the presence of Vincent and Ellone nearby. She smiled at Vincent, who tilted his head in acknowledgement, but as her gaze wandered to Ellone, she paused, her expression curious and oddly knowing. Cloud wondered what it could mean.

"You saved us, didn't you?" Marlene said.

Ellone pulled herself up to sit at eye level with her. "I suppose I did. But you two still need to rest. You'll be a little weak for the next few days."

"Yeah. But… you know something? You remind me of Sister…"

Cloud and Tifa exchanged a startled glance. "Sister" was what Marlene and the other kids had always called Aeris—Aeris who, though only in spirit, had still spoken to and cared for the orphans left in Meteor's wake. Aeris, who had been unique in more ways than one. Yet, thinking about it now, Cloud thought he saw a little of what Marlene meant.

Ellone's expression was kind but puzzled. "Who is that?"

"I'll tell you all about her on the way home," Marlene answered. "You're coming with us, aren't you? At least for a bit?"

"If your friends don't mind. I'm trying to get home, too."

Vincent turned to Cloud, but his eyes looked past him. "What about her?"

Following his friend's gaze, Cloud saw the ice witch. She was still sitting against the boulder where he'd left her. Blood seeped from her abdomen where Cloud had stabbed her, and her breath came in shallow gasps. Shock would set in before long if nothing was done, and Cloud was sorely tempted to leave her. She had, after all, nearly killed Marlene and seriously wounded Tifa. He didn't have any reason to help her.

Nevertheless, Cloud found himself walking toward her, his boots crunching in the snow until he was at her side. He crouched so he could look her in the eye. Weakened and dying though she was, the woman met his gaze, her chin tilting defiantly upward. Proud to the end, Cloud thought. Not an unadmirable quality.

"Ellone?" he called over his shoulder. "Come here for a minute."

A few slow footsteps behind him, and she was there. Vincent hovered close by, his arms folded over his chest. He shook his head. "This is not wise."

"Maybe not. I don't trust her any more than you do. But she might be able to help us."

"Why…" the witch spat, "would I… do that?"

Again, the sight of Marlene falling, the dagger in her back, flashed through his mind. Tifa, her leg torn open by the woman's whip. Maybe the witch did deserve to die. Cloud didn't know. But there was a part of him—a very strong part—that couldn't leave things as they were, couldn't just leave her here to bleed to death alone in the frigid night, enemy or no.

His eyes met hers. "Because we might be able to help you, too."

"I don't need… your pity!"

"But you _do_ want to save your son. That's why you got involved in all this, right?"

She nodded weakly. "Yes…"

It made sense. Maybe, if he'd been desperate enough, he might have done the same had Marlene or Denzel been in such danger. But then again, maybe not. Would he have been able to look at them again had he done so? Cloud didn't think so. He wondered how this woman would face her son, should she find him again.

"What's your name?" he asked, not ungently.

"Iseldra."

Cloud indicated Ellone, who was leaning heavily against Vincent's shoulder for support. "She can heal your wounds. Or we can just leave you. The choice is yours."

From behind him, Tifa's voice was unusually harsh. "Cloud, don't! You hear me?"

He glanced back to see his wife with her arms wrapped protectively around Marlene. The two stood a safe distance away but neither looked pleased with what Cloud was doing. Not that he blamed them. Tifa's brown eyes were hard, and Cloud knew that if it were up to her, she would already have left the other woman to die. Marlene might not have been her daughter by birth, but Cloud knew well enough how little that mattered. Parental instinct was strong either way, and he had no doubt that that was what drove Tifa's fury.

"I'm sorry, Tif. But I have to."

Without waiting for a reply, Cloud turned back to the ice witch. She was still looking at him, but her expression was no longer so bitter. "Why…?"

"I need your help. It's as simple as that."

"Either way, I… I'm already dead. She'll come for me. She doesn't like… loose ends."

Cloud had figured as much. "At least with us, you might still have a chance of seeing your son again. Don't you want that?"

"Yes, I… I do. He's still… just a baby…"

That was all Cloud needed. He looked at Ellone. "Can you help her?"

"I'll try," she replied uneasily.

Vincent shook his head. "Ellone, you are already on the verge of collapse. Exerting yourself more will only do you harm."

"I think I have a little bit left. Besides, it's the right thing to do."

"Is it?" Vincent wondered softly.

Pushing herself away from him, albeit a little woozily, Ellone knelt before Iseldra and placed her hands over the other woman's abdomen. Her eyes closed, and after a moment, light swam out from her fingertips. It was no longer so bright as it had been earlier, and at times it flickered and slowed as it slid into the gash beneath Iseldra's ribs. Sluggishly, the wound began knitting itself together. The bleeding slowed but didn't quite stop.

Cloud grimaced, no longer so sure he wasn't making a mistake here. Whatever power was flowing from Ellone was almost dry, at least for now, and she would have fallen right into Iseldra's lap had Cloud not caught her arm at the last moment. Vincent took her, then, abruptly breaking her contact with the ice witch and glaring darkly at Cloud.

_What the hell's gotten into you?_

Had he not known Vincent better, Cloud would have thought his friend was being overly protective. But that couldn't be. Vincent was nothing if not rational, his clear-headed logic almost cold at times. Maybe it was just his reservations about helping Iseldra. In any case, it didn't really matter. Ellone had done what she could. There was still a little blood, but it looked like the internal injuries had been healed. Cloud held out his hand.

Warily, the snow maiden took it. "I owe you my life…"

"Just watch yourself," Cloud warned, pulling her to her feet. "Because I will be. One wrong step and that's it."

She nodded. "I understand."

With that unpleasant business taken care of—at least for the time being—Cloud turned back to the others. He crossed the clearing to join his family, the two women who were his whole life. Marlene practically threw herself into his arms while Tifa folded hers across her chest and sighed uneasily. "I don't trust her, Cloud."

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.

"Of course."

Cloud reached out and took her hand. "That's all I need to know."

----------

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Ellone slowly unfastened her blouse. She and the others were staying in Holzoff's cabin for the night rather than attempt the long ride back to town right away. They had arrived here just a little while ago, and everyone was downstairs except for her. She had excused herself to go wash up, but there was something else she had to do first. It had been on her mind ever since her encounter with Gravheine.

Ellone had tossed her ruined coat onto the bed for the moment—Holzoff, as Cloud and Tifa had told her, always kept a few such rooms ready for travelers, most of which were climbers looking to challenge the nearby cliffs. Cloud and Tifa were sharing a room, Vincent had one to himself as did Iseldra, and Ellone was sharing one with Marlene. It was small but cozy, and much better than spending the evening outdoors. Ellone had had more than enough of that.

The top button slipped free, and Ellone's fingers immediately found the one below. That one came undone just as easily. Ellone paused in the act of reaching for the third, her eyes drawn to the narrow hole in the fabric just above her left breast. Blood stained the pale blue cotton in a small, uneven circle around its edge, and Ellone knew without looking that there was a matching hole in the back. Her chest ached dully, a soft throbbing she could not ignore.

Unfastening the rest of the buttons, Ellone slid her blouse from her shoulders, and it fluttered to the tile floor in an untidy heap. Wearing only a modest bra from the waist up, Ellone looked in the mirror at the wound in her chest. Or rather, where it should have been. There should have been nothing, only smooth, unbroken skin. Yet something was there.

On the left side of her chest was a faint scar, a pencil-thin line of whiteness where Sa'miel's sword had thrust out from between her ribs. Ellone touched it, suddenly uneasy. It was slightly cold, and when she drew her hand away, her eyes widened. A tiny dot of blood stained the tip of her finger. On the scar was a matching smear, so faint she almost didn't see it. Half-turning away, Ellone looked over her shoulder, seeing in the mirror a matching scar on her back, just below her left shoulder blade. It, too, bore an almost invisible spot of blood.

Facing forward again, Ellone looked at the wound on her chest once more. Another small dot had grown to replace the first. Yet how could that be? Atrus had healed her. Hadn't he? There shouldn't have been any scar tissue, let alone bleeding, yet there were both. And her chest ached, a line of dull, throbbing pain that traced the path that the demon's sword had cut through her. Ellone's eyes went from the wound to her bloodied fingertip and back again.

_What's happening to me?_

Ellone pondered the matter for just a moment longer before rinsing off her finger and deciding there was little she could do about it right now. Atrus knew something, of that she was sure, but she had no way of knowing when he would contact her again. And she didn't like how he had been able to use her body the way he had back at the cliffs. What was he? _Who_ was he? And how did he know Gravheine?

And how had she been able to heal Tifa and Marlene? Where had _that_ come from? Ellone wasn't sure she wanted to know, but the tingling in her blood was a constant reminder of her power. It was faint, more so than usual, and probably would be for the next day or so until she had fully recovered from using so much of it. Even so, Ellone wondered. She had _known,_ without knowing _how_ she knew, what had had to be done to save her friends. What did that mean? And would she be able to do it again if she had to?

Her mind swirling with far more questions than answers, Ellone unclasped her bra, finished undressing, and hopped into the shower. The steam and the hot water spilling down her skin felt so good after the ordeals of the past few days, and her muscles—aching and sore in more places than she had imagined possible—finally started to loosen up. Ellone let her mind drift as she washed the dirt and grime of her travels from her body.

By the time she finally turned off the water some fifteen or twenty minutes later, Ellone felt clean and refreshed and almost like herself again. She took a deep breath, her fair skin damp and dripping with moisture, and was just stepping out of the tub when she heard a knock at the bedroom door. Ellone quickly pulled a towel from the rack, wrapped it around herself, and hurried over to see who it was.

----------

Ellone's room was the closest to the stairs, so Vincent hadn't had to go very far to find it. He heard her on the other side, saying it would be just a minute. Had he caught her at a bad time? Vincent hoped not. But she hadn't looked so good ever since the encounter with Gravheine at the cliffs, so he'd wanted to check up on her. The door swung open halfway, and as Ellone peeked out around its edge, Vincent's breath caught in his throat.

Her body glistening wet and covered only by a towel, Ellone stifled an embarrassed gasp when she saw him. Water dripped from her short hair—tousled and unkempt and hanging freely just above the base of her neck—to land on her slim, bare shoulders in little drops of moisture. Small rivulets of water slid down her legs—what Vincent could see of them—toward her ankles, and her toes were small and damp and not at all unpleasant to look at. Vincent wondered what it would be like to touch them.

His eyes wandered back up toward her shoulders and the gentle swell of her breasts. Even covered as they were by the towel and the slim, small hand that held it in place, they were a lovely sight, their soft roundness glistening with moisture and pressing lightly against the soft fabric. Vincent felt a rush of heat sweep through him in spite of himself, a sensation he wasn't sure he liked but was much too powerful to ignore. His eyes seemed locked in place as he gazed at her, and it wasn't hard for him to realize why.

Even without her uncanny resemblance to Lucrecia, Ellone had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Vincent, hi…" Ellone said, her voice not quite steady. "Did you need something?"

_Only you,_ he thought before he could stop himself. His heart pounded against his ribs like a bass drum, and for a moment he was tempted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her passionately. And perhaps more. How long had it been since he had last felt this way? _But I can't feel anything. I'm not human anymore. Am I?_ If he wasn't, then what was this fire racing beneath his skin, this inexplicable and unspoken longing that while utterly confusing and uncertain also made Vincent feel more vital and warm and alive than he had in a very long time.

Vincent opened his mouth. What had he come here to say, exactly? "Ellone… dinner is ready. I thought you should know."

"Oh," she replied. "Thanks. I'll be down in a minute."

"I'll… see you downstairs," Vincent added, though he wasn't quite sure why.

Ellone nodded. "Right. Downstairs, then."

Not taking his eyes from her, Vincent backed away toward the stairs, his heart still beating furiously. Ellone was still looking at him, too, for some reason not closing the door just yet. God, she was beautiful. Her brown eyes followed him as he moved, and for just a second, Vincent found himself imagining the sight of her _without_ the towel, the feel of her bare body wrapped around his. Heat raced madly under his skin as he quickly thrust _that_ little vision from his mind with an effort, turned to go downstairs—

—and almost walked facefirst into the wall. Vincent blinked, his normally pale cheeks burning with color. Behind him, Ellone giggled, the sound both wonderful and incredibly embarrassing at the same time. He didn't dare turn to look at her, though, but instead stepped a little to his right, where the stairs _really_ were, and hurried down them as fast as he could.

----------

Standing atop a low bluff overlooking the old climber's log cabin, Gravheine seethed. Her dark hair swirled around her, tossed by a chill breeze, and her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides. How _dare_ that girl trick her like that! How _dare_ she! Gravheine wouldn't turn aside from her quest, not for anything. Not when she was so close to its completion. She would bring him back, her love, and no one would stand in her way. Still, hearing his voice again… that alone had almost stopped her.

But it had only been a lie. It _had_ to have been. The girl was clever. How had she known about him? It didn't matter. Gravheine wouldn't be taken in by her tricks again. Rage swirled within her like a firestorm, setting her blood on fire. The girl and the fools protecting her would learn soon enough of their powerlessness. And if she died along with them, so much the better. True, Gravheine had promised her to Odine, but she could deal with him if she had to. Loathe as she was to break her word, Gravheine had had enough.

She reached into her robes and withdrew the Black Materia. It was warm and alive in her hands and surging with power. Things had not gone exactly according to plan, but Gravheine had the artifact despite the ice witch's betrayal. Iseldra had shown her gratitude by siding with her enemies. And now she would share their fate.

Gravheine thrust her arm out before her, the materia grasped in her fingers, and called upon its power. The shadows rippled around her, and a host of creepers—black, four-legged monsters with hard, leathery hides and sharp, gnashing teeth—suddenly erupted into existence amidst clouds of dark ash. Their feral eyes gazed hungrily at the cabin below.

"Feast upon their flesh," Gravheine purred.

----------

Ellone sat down, dressed in her jeans and a blue flannel shirt Mr. Holzoff had given her to replace her bloodied blouse, and dug in. She chatted mostly with Tifa and Marlene as she ate, telling them how she'd come here and what her world was like and listening to them talk about their lives here in this one. Cloud listened for a while, too, but didn't say much. He was trying to call someone named Barret, but with little success. Apparently the weather was still interfering with the reception.

Every so often, Ellone snuck a quick glance to her left, where Vincent leaned quietly against the wall. His eyes were on the ice witch, who also kept to herself on the far side of the room, but once or twice when Ellone looked his way, he looked back at her. She thought of the little incident upstairs and couldn't suppress a slight blush.

"What?" Tifa asked.

"Ah, nothing, it's nothing, really…" Ellone went back to her food in a hurry. "Oh, this steak's delicious, isn't it?"

Tifa smiled. "Yeah, it turned out pretty well. Mr. Holzoff keeps the place well-stocked."

"People come up here?"

"More than you might think," Tifa replied. "A lot of them are climbers that want to take on the cliffs, and others are just people who get lost on the glacier. The snowboard tracks go right into it. It's really easy to get turned around up here."

Ellone chuckled. "I can imagine. It doesn't look too much different from where I was just before I came here. Not as many mountains, but there's still a lot of snow. I got lost myself out there trying to get back to that Garden I was telling you about."

"Oh, when you missed your wedding?" Marlene piped in..

"What? No, no, it was my friend's wedding, not mine. But I _was_ supposed to be one of the bridesmaids. I just hope I can find my way back. Everyone must be worried sick by now. But if I hadn't ended up here, well…"

Marlene squeezed her hand tight. "I'm glad you did, Ellone."

"So am I," Tifa smiled. "Marlene and I might've died if it weren't for you. I don't know how you got here or why, but I'll do what I can to help you get back to where you belong. And I'm sure Cloud and Vincent will, too."

Ellone gazed fondly at her new friends. "Thanks, you two."

On the far side of the polished wood table, Cloud was still trying to call Barret, whoever that was. Finally, after about the tenth try, he folded his phone shut and slipped it into his pocket with a sigh. "Damn. Reception's still out. Barret ought to be on his way by now with the others, but there's no way to know when they'll get here."

"I guess we just rest and wait, then," Tifa replied. "They'll come."

"Yeah. How are you feeling?"

Tifa pushed back her plate. "Better than I was. Still, I think I'll go to bed early tonight. That goes for you, too, Marlene."

"Aw, nuts!" Marlene pouted.

"Go on up, Tifa," Cloud told her. "I'll join you later."

Tifa rose and started collecting dishes from the table. "Just as soon as I finish these. Ellone, could you give me a ha—"

"Quiet!" Vincent's voice was hushed. "Something is coming!"

No sooner had he said the words than something black and snarling suddenly crashed through the window. Its beady eyes sent a chill down Ellone's spine, and the thing pulled back its mouth in a snarl. It sprang at her, curved teeth sharp and glistening. She dove to the side, pulling Marlene with her even as more of the dark things burst through the walls in deafening explosions of wood and glass.

Gunfire expoded in Ellone's ears as Vincent fired, and out of the corner of her eye, Ellone saw Tifa smash one of the monsters in the face with her foot. Another of the beasts leapt onto the table only to be skewered by Cloud's sword—ever the warrior, he'd kept it on his back even inside the cabin—and it burst into a cloud of black ash. Ellone held Marlene tight against her even as her eyes found the bladestaff. It was in the corner, right where she'd left it. But now at least three of the creatures were in the way.

"Shit!" Cloud grimaced. "Creepers! What the hell are they doing here?"

"Gravheine…" Ellone murmured.

Another creeper launched itself at her, and she whirled around to put her back between it and Marlene, who huddled in her arms. Ellone looked over her shoulder just in time to see Tifa slam her fists into the monster's jaw one after the other followed by a vicious kick that sent it flying away and tipping over the table in the process. Plates and crockery shattered and silverware tumbled everywhere as the creeper vaporized.

Tifa had taken no more than a step, however, when she staggered and fell, her breath coming in labored gasps. "Damn… should've remembered… what you said, Ellone…"

"It's alright. Don't strai— _look out!"_

Ellone grabbed Tifa's shoulder with one hand and pulled her back just as another creeper landed in the spot where she'd just been. It snarled, bracing itself to leap again, when a sturdy oak staff smashed into the side of its jaw. Ellone looked up just as the thing exploded into dust under a a few swift cuts of Cloud's sword. Behind him, holding the cudgel, Holzoff looked on grimly. "Those things think they can come into _my_ house? Hah!"

"Everyone outside!" Cloud ordered.

With Vincent providing cover fire, Ellone followed Cloud, pushing Tifa and Marlene ahead of her. She and the others were halfway to one of the breaches in the wall when she realized Holzoff hadn't moved. Ellone whirled around to see him smashing the creepers with his fists and cudgel. What was he _thinking?_ "Mr. Holzoff, come on!"

The burly, bearded climber shook his head. "Can't, miss. This here's my home, and I'll be damned if I let these beasties have it. But here, I've got somethin' for you!"

He tossed Ellone her bladestaff, and she took it gratefully. It felt good to hold it again, though she knew that at the moment she didn't have the strength to fight. It was all she could do to stand, let alone run. She looked up at Holzoff, to thank him and maybe try one last time to change his mind, but the words died in her throat as the wall behind him exploded.

A pair of creepers pounced upon Holzoff's back, claws and teeth tearing him open with the sound of meat being pulled off a bone. Ellone screamed and launched herself at the monsters, but before she could take so much as a step, strong arms were pulling her back. At first she fought against them, not wanting to leave her friend behind, but Vincent's voice in her ear was strong and insistent.

"It's too late, Ellone. We must go."

With a choked sob, she let Vincent lead her outside. Gunfire exploded around her, swords flashed, but somehow she no longer cared. Then something small and warm was in her arms. Marlene. Ellone held onto her and Tifa tightly, her eyes wet with tears, as Vincent, Cloud, and Iseldra struggled to keep the creepers at bay. But they were all around them now, encircling them on all sides. The cabin was a shambles, the lights flickering uncertainly in the night, and in those sparse flashes Ellone saw someone on the nearby ridge.

Gravheine.

Her reptilian amber eyes glittered coldly in the dark, and for a moment they met Ellone's. But before she could say or do anything, Gravheine turned and faded into the shadows. She was gone. The creepers remained, however, and Ellone rose to her feet, letting go of Marlene to ready her bladestaff. Weakened or no, she didn't have a choice, even though she knew it was pointless. There were dozens of creepers closing in, blocking any chance of escape.

Yet just as Ellone braced herself to join the fray, she heard another roar. But this one was different from that of the monsters. Artificial, she would have said. It was coming from above, and she looked up just in time to see something huge and dark flying toward them at high speed. And from it shot a host of smaller things, smoke trailing behind them. Missiles, Ellone realized, her eyes widening. She dove, flattening Marlene beneath her as they struck.

Fire and thunder exploded around her, scattering the creepers in all directions. The huge thing—it was an airship, Ellone saw now—swooped low, kicking up dust and snow in its wake. Figures leapt from its deck, and something round and sharp and tipped with four razor points flew like a boomerang into the creepers, ripping its way through them as bullets punched through the air in a furious staccato beat.

"Yuffie! Barret!" Tifa called.

A girl of about twenty or so and a huge black man cut through the writhing mass of monsters to open an escape route. The big man's right arm ended in a sleek tripodal gatling gun that spat a hail of bullets into the monsters. His companion grinned at Tifa as though she were enjoying the fight—and, Ellone reflected, she probably was. Her almond eyes gleamed beneath the wide band of cloth encircling her forehead, and her short black hair hung close to ears. She caught her shuriken with expert ease, backflipped nimbly away from a pair of creepers and quickly shot it out again in a tight circle that left only clouds of ash behind.

Ellone looked at Tifa. "Friends of yours?"

"Yeah. Come on, we gotta get to the ai— Ellone, behind you!"

She whirled around, whipping up her bladestaff to meet the creeper that was leaping at her, its jaws wide and snarling. But suddenly a mass of red fur and claws slammed into it from the side, a slashing and biting thing that looked almost like a panther and growled ferociously. Ellone shrank back as the crimson beast tore out the creeper's throat, and the monster exploded into black dust almost immediately.

The panther turned to her. "Are you alright, miss?"

"You can talk?" Ellone marveled.

"Sometimes too much. But now's not the time. Get on the airship! Hurry!"

Ellone complied at once, pushing Marlene ahead of her away from the creepers. Sleek, silver, and over six hundred meters long, the airship hovered nearby in a vast, open patch of snow devoid of trees and boulders. Little more than a vast fuselage with a roaring engine sprouting from either side by way of thin struts, the vessel filled Ellone's vision. _Sierra_ was etched into the side of the hull near the bridge in bold, backswept letters, and a rope ladder hung from the deck that stretched out behind and above the main body of the airship.

She was still at least fifty meters from the ship when a half dozen creepers surged toward her from the left. Ellone pushed herself faster, her lungs burning even as she realized she couldn't outrun the monsters. But just as she turned to face them, they exploded into ash one after the other. Gunfire ripped through the air and steel flashed as Vincent rode up on one side, his gun barrel still smoking, and Cloud raced along the other. They'd managed to get to the motorcycles after all and were fending off the creepers even as they drove.

"Get on!" Vincent ordered.

Ellone took his hand and jumped on behind him even as Tifa and Marlene got on the other bike behind Cloud. Iseldra, however, stayed where she was, her spiked whip lashing creepers left and right. For a moment she looked at the others, and although it went against her better judgement, Ellone reached out a hand to help her up. "You'd better come, too."

The ice witch shook her head. "No. You need time to reach the ship. I'll make sure you get it."

"Iseldra, come on!" Cloud urged.

"I don't plan on dying here, if that's what you're thinking," she scoffed, striking away another pair of creepers as she did so. "We'll meet again."

He frowned. "You don't know that."

"Let me do this, Cloud. I owe you, remember? Now go!"

With a sigh, Cloud sped off, and Ellone held on tight as Vincent followed him. She looked back once and saw Iseldra, her blue hair flying, lashing at the advancing creepers with her whip and sending bolts of amber energy flying into them. She moved with uncanny speed, but how long could she hold out against so many foes? There seemed to be no end to the number of creepers pouring over the ridge.

More gunfire, this time with a slightly different pitch, drew her attention back to the ship. It wasn't Vincent or Barret, but rather another man who was standing at the base of the ramp leading into the _Sierra's_ cargo bay. Dark-haired, lightly bearded and dressed in crisp navy and white, he fired shot after shot at the monsters with a high-powered assault rifle. On his shoulder was, of all things, a blue-furred cat with a shining gold crown on its head. The strange little creature hurled a swarm of fireballs at the creepers one after the other as an orb in its wrist glowed bright green.

The man motioned with his arm as Ellone and the others drew near. "Everyone inside! Cid's up on the bridge waiting for you!"

They hurried past him into the cargo bay. Glancing behind her, Ellone saw the bearded man and the red panther hurrying up the ramp while Barret and Yuffie climbed the rope ladder and disappeared out of sight. The roar of the airship's engines filled Ellone's ears as Vincent finally pulled the motorcycle to a halt alongside Cloud's and cut the motor.

Ellone was just letting Vincent help her off the bike, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders as he gently lifted her by the waist and placed her on the deck, when another creeper suddenly leapt through the rapidly closing ramp at the last second and dove straight at her. Ellone shrieked and tried to bring up her bladestaff, but the thing was too fast, crossing the distance in less than a heartbeat and slamming her to the deck.

Pain raced up Ellone's spine as her breath rushed from her body and her weapon flew from her hands. The creeper loomed over her, teeth bared, and swiped at her with viciously sharp claws. More pain, lines of burning agony racing across her chest, her own screams echoing in her ears along with the thunder of gunfire and the roar of a familiar voice somehow more monster than man. Ellone's vision blurred as the world swam away.

Darkness took her, and she knew no more.


	16. Under Fire

**Chapter 15  
Under Fire**

Seifer checked his gunblade for about the tenth time. Not that he really needed to, but it made him feel better, just the same. How long had it been since he'd used it? Not since the war. Now, though, he might just need it again if things got out of hand over in Galbadia. And, given Squall's run of bad luck lately, Seifer thought they just might.

He sat belowdecks on the small SeeD gunship that was taking himself and the rest of his team to Dollet. Well, technically, it was Quistis' team, but that didn't really matter to Seifer. All the others had to do was stay out of his way and everything would be fine. But, really, did Squall have to have stuck him with Zell, of all people? Was that some kind of sick joke? Or did he really have no one else to send on this mission?

_That might've been funny if it wasn't so true,_ Seifer grimaced.

He'd heard about the attack, of course. Big news, that was. But he hadn't expected it to hit him so hard. When Squall had first contacted him the other day to draft him for this recon mission, Seifer hadn't believed at first how staggering the losses had been. Among them were several people he had known for much of his life, though hardly on the best of terms.

Little messenger girl Selphie had always annoyed him to no end, but… dead? No, that just couldn't be. Not the Garden's self-proclaimed one-girl cheerleading squad. Sure, there had been times when Seifer had felt like he could have cheerfully strangled her without a second thought just to shut her up, but he had never seriously—except maybe during that crazy shit with the sorceress during the war—wanted to see her dead.

And then there was the headmaster, the closest thing to a father Seifer had ever had. He couldn't imagine Garden without Cid. As long as he could remember, Cid had been there, as much a fixture of the place as the towering blue spire that was its main structure. It was Cid who had spoken up for Seifer during the SeeD tribunal after the war and who was most responsible for his acquittal. Seifer knew well enough where he would have been now without Cid's intervention—a Galbadian prison cell.

But most of all, the person his thoughts came back to and which fueled his mounting anger, was Rinoa. On the edge of death, she was the only girl he had come close to loving. No matter that she was with Squall now—Seifer had never stopped caring about her, even if he had thought so for a time. He had done too much to Rinoa for her to ever forgive or forget, but maybe now he could make up for it a little. And get revenge for her and the others while he was at it.

He only wished Raijin and Fujin were with him. But upon meeting in Balamb this morning, Squall had promptly drafted them into serving as impromptu bodyguards for Rinoa and Matron Edea. There had already been one assassination attempt, just last night—some weird goddamn snake had poisoned Rinoa before Squall had finally gotten up off his scrawny ass and killed it—and there was bound to be another now that the first had failed. At least with Fujin and Raijin looking out for her now, Seifer felt a little better about Rinoa's safety.

"Hey, chicken-wuss," he growled as Zell returned to the cabin, "the sun up yet?"

Zell's tattooed face darkened but he kept his reply to the point. "Not yet. Probably not 'till we hit Dollet, I think."

That was a first. Seifer hadn't thought Zell would have been able to restrain himself so well. But maybe that was his girlfriend's doing. Trust a woman to douse Zell's temper and ruin Seifer's fun. But, he had to admit, at least old chicken-wuss had some taste. His girl, with her green eyes and thick braid of blond hair, was certainly cute enough. She was sitting opposite Seifer, with Zell joining her on one side while Quistis perused mission reports on the other.

Quistis. Seifer's eyes wandered over to her, lingering over her a little longer than he cared to admit. When the hell had she become so frickin' hot? She had always looked to Seifer like a stuffy librarian before, with her hair pinned up at the back of her head and those glasses she'd often worn always perched on the bridge of her nose. But now, with her long locks of golden hair hanging down past her shoulders and her blue eyes unhindered by those annoying wireframes, she actually looked like a woman.

_And one hell of a woman, at that._

Seifer tore his eyes from her before he could go any further along _that_ line of thought. Surely he wasn't interested in her, was he? Not that she would have ever felt the same, even without all the trouble he'd caused during the war. Besides, Quistis had her annoying little Trepie fan club to keep her happy, didn't she? And Seifer, well… he had Fujin and Rajin. The two of them were all the company he'd ever needed.

"So what's the plan again?" he asked.

Quistis sighed. "How many times do I have to go over this, Seifer? We're taking the ship to Dollet, and from there the next train to Deling City. There's a man there that we're going to meet—one of President Caraway's military advisors and a weapons expert—who may be able to help us track down where the bomb came from. Understand?"

Leaning back in his seat, Seifer nodded. "Yeah, yeah…"

"Good. Because I'm not explaining it again."

"And if we run into trouble?" Sara asked quietly.

Seifer answered before Quistis could. "Then we handle it. Might be peaceful over there right now, but you can bet there's a hornet's nest buzzin' underneath. Caraway's gonna have a hell of a time keeping a lid on it."

"Thank you for that most intriguing political analysis," Quistis glared at him pointedly, her crisply accented voice dripping with sarcasm. "In the future, Seifer, perhaps you might keep in mind that brute force isn't always the best option."

"No, but it does get the job done."

Zell pounded his fist against the bulkhead. "Shut up, Seifer!"

"Make me," he challenged.

"That's enough, you two!" Quistis's blue eyes glared daggers at both of them. "We have a job to do, and your macho bullshit isn't helping."

Seifer shrugged. He could let it go for now. Bugging Zell was one of his favorite hobbies, one he hadn't enjoyed in quite a while. There would always be time later. His gaze wandered back to Quistis. She'd changed out of her uniform—everyone had, as this was a covert mission—and into a close-fitting burgundy tunic and pants. The button-down tunic was short enough that it left her midriff visible, and it was to this and to her face—small, round, and not at all unattractive—that his eyes kept returning.

_Oh, this is great. What the hell's the matter with me?_

Forcing himself to look away, Seifer returned his attention to his gunblade, not daring to look at Quistis again. So it went for the next few hours. He didn't say much except to make a few jibes at Zell, who eventually stormed outside again, this time with his girl. That left Seifer alone with a silently fuming Quistis, who was now deliberately ignoring him. She got up and worked on one of the computer consoles to pass the time while Seifer relaxed in his seat, his hands folded behind his blond head, and tried not to think about her.

A sudden jolt tore Seifer from his thoughts, and his hand flew to his weapon as the ship lurched hard to starboard. There was a muffled bang, and what sounded like explosions coming from above. Seifer sprang to his feet, but before he could get anywhere, another jarring impact shook the cabin so violently it threw him back in his seat and hurled Quistis across the room with a startled shriek. She landed on top of him, her eyes meeting his, and Seifer almost forgot for a moment the chaos erupting around him.

"You okay?" he asked. He almost had to shout over the noise.

"I'm fine, thank you very much!" Quistis snapped.

Seifer frowned. "Hey, don't get excited!"

Another jolt as Quistis struggled to extricate herself from Seifer's grasp, and she was thrown right back into his arms. It might not have been so bad to have her there had the circumstances been different. Still, he would take what he could get. Quistis glared at him, her blue eyes both icy and immensely gorgeous. "Being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited."

"Ouch. So much for my manly charm."

Quistis shook her head and sighed. "Seifer, you don't _have_ any charm."

"Hey, you're the one who can't keep her hands off me," Seifer smirked. "So that's gotta count for something. Wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, shut up!"

Amidst the shuddering impacts that rocked the cabin, Seifer helped Quistis to her feet and raced with her to the ladder and the hatch that led to the deck. He was just twisting the release valve when the bulkhead to his right simply exploded. Seifer whirled so his back was to the blast, grabbed Quistis, and slammed both her and himself to the floor as flame, debris, and water shot through the breach.

Seifer pulled her up as the water poured in. "We gotta get outta here!"

"What about the others?"

"We'll find 'em later! They'll be tryin' to get out, too."

Quistis nodded. "I guess so. Come o—"

Another blast, and a shard of flying metal scrap suddenly clipped the side of her head, cutting off her words with brutal neatness. Her eyes rolled up to whites, and with a grunt of pain, she fell. Seifer caught her, but by then she was unconscious. Blood ran from her temple, staining her blond hair with streaks of glistening red.

"Shit…" Seifer muttered.

All around him, water was flooding into the cabin from the gaping wounds in the hull. The ship tilted drunkenly to port as Seifer, one arm wrapped around Quistis' body, reached for the hatch and pulled. It was stuck fast, refusing to budge so much as an inch. What the hell was going on up there? Obviously somebody was firing on them, but who? And why? Seifer yanked again at the hatch, but it didn't move.

He let go and whirled around to find the water now almost to his knees. There _was_ one way out, but he wasn't sure how well he could swim with Quistis weighing him down. Still, better that than staying here and drowning. Grabbing his gunblade—there was no way in hell he was leaving it behind—Seifer hung it from his belt and turned to the nearest hole. The ship shuddered again, and the far wall with its delicate setup of computer consoles and tracking monitors exploded into thousands of glittering fragments.

Smoke stung Seifer's eyes as a rush of fire and water spat through the new opening. It was risky, but it was the only shot he and Quistis had. At least he wasn't wearing his favorite jacket—the gray one with the red symbol on the shoulders. Quistis had convinced him into leaving it back at his place in Balamb—it would have been too conspicuous and was too well-known over in Galbadia—and while he hated not going anywhere without it, he was glad now he had listened to her. The heavy trenchcoat would have weighed him down too much and made what he was about to do all that much harder.

Holding Quistis tightly against him, Seifer took a deep breath and dove into the water.

----------

"Okay, old buddy," Laguna nodded. "See you a in a few."

He switched off the comm panel, and Kiros' image winked out almost at once. Still no luck finding Elle, but the storm was still hovering sullenly over the region and had been playing havoc with the _Illumina_'s sensors for the past few days, so she might still be out there somewhere. Even had that not been the case, Laguna wasn't about to give up on the search. The ship was waiting for him now, refueling in the Garden's hangar bay.

Laguna slipped on his jacket—it was the same blue one he'd always had, though it seemed a little tight nowadays—and headed out of the little room that had been his home since the accident almost a week ago. His leg and side still ached, and he couldn't avoid a slight limp, but otherwise he felt fine. Ward had recovered nicely as well and was already on board the _Illumina_ helping Kiros get it prepped to leave. Laguna would have joined him sooner, but there were a few other things he needed to do first.

The infirmary seemed a little cheerier with morning sunlight spilling through the windows. Or maybe it was just that Laguna wasn't a patient anymore. He'd never been good at that—how had Raine ever put up with him for six months? A sad little smile crept across Laguna's face at the memory of his dead wife, but it didn't cause him the pain that it used to. Maybe having his children back in his life helped.

And right now they both needed him.

On the way out, Laguna paused outside one of the other patient rooms. Raijin and Fujin stood on either side of the door. The burly, tanned Raijin fidgeted with his thick staff and shifted anxiously from foot to foot. Fujin, on the other hand, showed all the emotion of a slab of rock, her hands folded behind her back as she gazed implacably forward with her one eye. A patch of black cloth covered the other. Laguna had never heard how she lost it.

"So, how's she doin'?" Laguna asked.

Raijin sighed. "Not so good, you know? Still out, an' all that."

"WEAKENING," Fujin pronounced.

Laguna had figured as much. He'd heard the scream when Rinoa was bitten the other night, and Edea had told him what happened soon after. Rinoa was still alive, though from what Laguna understood, the venom was spreading through her system at an alarming rate. Dr. Kadowaki had managed to slow it a little with antibiotics, but it would only buy her a few more days at most. No doubt Squall knew that as well.

"Keep her safe, you two," Laguna replied. "That's my future daughter-in-law in there."

"RINOA, PROTECTED," Fujin nodded.

Raijin straightened. ""Got to, you know? 'Cause Seifer's countin' on us."

Satisfied, Laguna headed toward the front desk, then stopped and made a turn to the right instead. There was someone else in here he wanted to see before he left. Well, two someones, to be specific. His leg twinged as he limped down the hall to the ICU—damn, why did it always have to act up like that? It wasn't like he was nervous or anything… was it?

As he thought, Edea was inside, watching her baby. She was sitting next to the incubator unit, the circles under her eyes speaking of more than one sleepless night. Yet her expression brightened a little as she saw Laguna enter, and he felt a few butterflies rise inside him in spite of himself. _Get a hold of yourself, man! She's way,_ way _off-limits, and you damn well know it!_ Much as he tried to suppress his feelings, though, they refused to go away.

Laguna stopped a few feet away from her, not trusting himself to get any closer. "Uh, hi… just wanted to see how you two were doin'…"

"Sariese is improving, though she can't yet breathe on her own. But she is stable. As for me… I'm still… I still can't believe…"

Her chest hitched, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Laguna would have given anything to be able to wipe them away, to comfort her somehow, but he couldn't. He simply stood there, unable to meet her gaze and feeling very much ashamed of himself. What kind of a man was he, pining after a grieving widow? No matter that he himself knew the pain she felt, having lost Raine so many years ago. It was still wrong, no matter what.

_So why can't I get her outta my mind?_

Running an unsteady hand through his long hair, Laguna sighed shakily. "I know… Cid was a great guy. I liked him a lot. And the others…"

Selphie and Nida. Both gone. Laguna had known Selphie the better of the two, had always gotten a kick of her bubbly enthusiasm and her penchant for often calling him "Sir" Laguna. She'd been like a favorite niece, he supposed, which was why he'd happily agreed to give her away at the wedding. But now she was dead. So was Nida, the Garden's navigator, and headmaster Cid. Rinoa's chances were precarious at best, and Elle was still missing.

"I'm sorry," Edea wiped her eyes, "I though I had finished my weeping, but…"

"You don't have to apologize."

She smiled faintly. "Thank you. You're a sweet man, you know that?"

Laguna shifted anxiously but couldn't keep from feeling a bit sheepish even as his sense of shame deepened. Rather than pleasing him, the compliment actually made him feel worse. He looked at the baby, at the shelves on the side of the room, at the floor—anything but her. She was too beautiful, wonderful yet forbidden, and while his heart hammered in his chest, he knew he couldn't follow it. He didn't dare.

"Uh, thanks," he stammered. "I… I'd better be goin'…"

"Is something wrong?"

Laguna shook his head so hard he thought it would fall off. "No, huh-uh! Nothing's wrong. I just gotta go. Kiros is waitin' for me at the ship."

"Of course," Edea nodded. "Ellone needs you."

"Yeah," Laguna agreed. Somehow the reminder of that responsibility made him feel a little better, a little more like himself. Straightening, he looked at Edea again, forced his feelings down, and swallowed. He was still nervous, but that would pass. With a jaunty little wave to her and Sariese, he turned to leave.

Edea's voice stopped him on the way out. "Laguna?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

----------

Within the sheltered grove of Healin Lodge, Rufus Shinra sat in darkness. The company's new headquarters had grown a little in the years since his encounter with Kadaj, but it was still small, little more than the main complex and a few outbuildings. Rufus had no desire to repeat the mistakes of the past, and that included restoring the Shinra Corporation to the iron-fisted megaconglomerate it had once been.

That mistake had cost him the use of his legs and had almost taken his life as well. Only a hasty injection of Jenova cells, Tseng's timely evacuation of himself and the rest of the Turks, and many months of physical recuperation here at Healin had saved him. So now, Rufus sat in his wheelchair, the lights in the conference room turned off to accommodate the nature of his uninvited yet not unexpected visitor.

She moved toward him, sensuous and deadly, a beautiful viper with eyes of glittering amber and hair like black silk. "Rufus. I have need of you."

"What do you want, Gravheine?"

"Nothing much. Just a favor. One small task I would like you to perform. And in return, I will give you the thing you want most."

Rufus narrowed his eyes. "Go on."

"There was… an altercation… between myself and some of your old acquaintances. Cloud Strife and his companions, to be exact."

"What did you do?"

Gravheine laughed. It was cold and mirthless, a sound Rufus found he didn't like at all. "It does not matter. But there was another with them."

"Someone else?" Rufus wondered. "Who?"

"A girl. A very troublesome young woman. I have pressing matters elsewhere, but she must be dealt with. She will have survived our latest encounter, if previous experience is any indication. Go to Icicle and bring her back here to me."

Rufus raised an eyebrow. All this fuss over a girl? But he doubted Gravheine would have arrived so suddenly without warning if she hadn't been troubled about something. She had come to him once before, to enlist the aid of the Turks in searching for the black materia, but Rufus had declined. He'd had enough of this sort of thing, back-alley deals and dark promises. But what had she meant, the thing he wanted most? Rufus was curious, in spite of himself.

He leaned back in his chair. "How do you expect me to that? Cloud and the others are obviously helping her. They won't just hand her over."

"Leave that to me," Gravheine withdrew from her robes a slender glass vial with a pale mist swirling inside it. "This vapor is a powerful sedative, much like chloroform. The girl need only inhale a small amount of it, and she will be rendered unconscious. How you get her out after that, I leave to you."

"What about the others?"

Gravhiene handed him the vial. "I am certain your subordinates can contain them long enough to subdue her. But if needed, the vapor can also be ignited. The explosion is small, but for a few moments the flash will blind anyone who looks at it."

"Sorry, Gravheine," Rufus narrowed his eyes. "I won't be their enemy again."

Her reptilian eyes flickered. "Tell me, Rufus. How long have you been confined to that chair? Five years? Ten?"

"Six," he answered warily. "Why?"

"Long enough."

Gravheine place her hands on Rufus' legs—one on each thigh—and the fingers passed right through the white fabric of his slacks to reach the skin beneath. Though he wasn't truly paralyzed, his legs had been so badly crushed during Weapon's attack that they had almost no strength anymore. He had barely been able to stand in his last meeting with Kadaj—had he taken even a single step, he'd have keeled over almost at once. Ever since, Rufus had kept to his chair, hating himself for his weakness.

Suddenly, Rufus felt warmth in his legs. He gasped, hardly able to believe what was happening. The stiffness and pain—constant, hateful reminders of his helplessness—faded almost at once. Gravheine withdrew her hands and backed away as Rufus stared uncertainly at his legs and then at her. She nodded. "Get up, Rufus."

He did so, expecting the usual spasms of pain that always assailed him. But they weren't there. He struggled out of the wheelchair and rose wobbily to his feet. Gravheine beckoned to him. Rufus took one halting, hesitant step, then another. And another. Though unsteady, it was real. He was walking! A rush of exhaltation swept through him and he took another step. But as he did so, the pain and weakness suddenly came back like a sucker punch to the gut. He fell with a groan, but Gravheine caught him easily.

"What is this?" Rufus snarled. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Hardly. Think of it as a taste of what I can give you. Bring me the girl, Rufus, and I will make this permanent."

With a sigh, Rufus let her help him back into the wheelchair. He had always felt trapped within it, bound to live out his remaining days as only half a man. He looked at the vial Gravheine had given him. Would it be worth it? Could he do it? _Or would I rather spend the rest of my life confined to this damned chair?_ At that last thought, all his doubts vanished.

Rufus met Gravheine's amber gaze. "Very well. I will do as you ask."

"A wise decision," she purred. "You will not regret it."

With a swirl of black fabric, Gravheine melted into the shadows and was gone. For a while, Rufus sat alone in the gloom, contemplating his choice but not regretting it. At last, he wheeled over to the wall, adjusted the lighting to its normal level, and called his men back inside. They showed up almost at once, Reno strolling lazily behind Rude. They both fell into line in front of Rufus as he rolled himself back to the middle of the room.

"What's up, boss?" Reno asked.

Rufus held up the vial. "I have a job for you."

----------

The first thing Quistis was aware of was Seifer's mouth pressing against hers.

Her eyes flew open. "Wha—"

Whatever she was going to say was abruptly lost as she was suddenly overcome by a violent fit of coughing. Quistis rolled onto her side, vaguely aware of the sand beneath her body and the surf crashing nearby. Water flew from her mouth as her throat and lungs cleared and salty sea air instantly took its place. For a moment, Quistis simply breathed, not sure how she was alive but glad of it just the same. Then she remembered Seifer.

"You!" Quistis sat up, her eyes blazing. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"Saving your life, Instructor. It's called CPR."

"I know what it's called, you idiot! That still doesn't give you the right to plaster your lips on me whenever you goddamn feel like it!"

Seifer shrugged. "You weren't exactly arguing at the time."

"I was unconscious!" Quistis snapped. "And the last thing I want is to wake up to you giving me mouth-to-mouth!"

"So I should have let you drown, then? And after all the trouble I went through to get you here? If you act like this every time someone saves your life, maybe I just won't bother next time. You weren't exactly easy to get out of that sub, you know."

Quistis' eyes narrowed. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Have you got any idea how heavy you are?" Seifer asked bluntly.

"_Heavy!" _Quistis shot to her feet, her hands flying to her hips. "I don't see how it's any of your goddamned business how much I weigh!"

Seifer blinked. "I could've phrased that a little better…"

"Damn right you could have! I don't know why I ever agreed to let you come on this mission with me. I just _knew_ you'd be trouble!"

"Speaking of trouble, take a look around. We're on our own."

It was true. Quistis turned and gazed out to sea, but there was no sign of the ship they had arrived in, no indication of whether or not Zell and Sara had managed to escape. But what Quistis did see sent shivers down her spine. "What are _they_ doing here?"

Seifer shrugged. "Don't know. But it's a good bet they're the ones that fired on us."

At least a dozen Galbadian warships floated in Dollet's harbor, patrolling the waters up and down the shore as far as Quistis could see. Why hadn't her own ship's sensors detected them? More likely they had, but too late for any warning to have helped. But their presence could mean only one thing. "Caraway's lost control of Galbadia, hasn't he?"

"Looks that way. Talk about a fast presidency. Wasn't even sworn in yet."

"We have to find out what happened and if he's in danger. Maybe it's just me, but I think there's a connection between this and the bombing."

Seifer frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"They happened so close together, Seifer. And the device was Galbadian, remember?"

"Right. So what now?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Although the memory of Seifer's mouth upon hers lingered, Quistis banished it with an effort and focused on the task at hand. "Assuming Zell and Sara escaped—and until we know otherwise, that's _exactly_ what we're going to assume—they'll head for Deling City to ascertain the situation there."

"Oh, really?" Seifer asked.

"It's Sara's hometown and the capital of Galbadia. If there's been a coup of some kind within the last few days, she'll have a better chance of finding out what's going on than either of us. Also, our contact is there, too."

Seifer folded his arms. "So it's off to Deling City?"

"No. We're going to report to Galbadia Garden as per regulations, see what's going on there, and get further orders from Headmaster Martine."

"Oh, joy…"

Quistis raised an eyebrow. "You have a problem with that?"

"No, no problem. Aside from the fact that Martine's likely to hang me before we even get inside. It was his Garden I took over, you know."

"I'm aware of that, Seifer. Just leave him to me."

He rolled his eyes. "I feel better already."

Quistis started to voice an angry retort but thought better of it. She had more important things to do than waste time arguing with Seifer. Bits of debris from the ship littered the sand here and there, but she couldn't see anything salvageable. Her whip still hung at her side, though—she never went anywhere without it. And, she noticed, Seifer had his gunblade. So at least they were armed, and not a moment too soon, either.

"Seifer, down there!" she hissed, pointing.

He joined her and followed her gaze, crouching next to her and pulling her down with him as soon as he saw the Galbadian troops. Fortunately they hadn't spotted them yet—to Quistis they were little more than tiny blue dots a few hundred yards down the shore—but she knew it was only a matter of time.

Seifer frowned. "There's the welcoming committee. Do we stay or fight?"

"I'm not sure. But they _are_ in our way."

The beach was strewn with low dunes and haphazard clumps of brown rock. Quistis motioned to Seifer and led him away from the water and to the relatively safer shelter of a shallow ravine littered with bits of sandstone. She knelt behind one of the protruding rocks to watch the Galbadians as Seifer did the same. His arm brushed lightly against hers as he crouched next to her, and for a moment Quistis found her eyes meeting his.

There was a single breathless moment that seemed to last an eternity, then suddenly the spell was broken. Galbadians were shouting orders from somewhere still farther down the beach but now just within earshot. Quistis blinked and tore her gaze away from Seifer—it was harder than she would have liked—and looked out again at the troops even as her stomach seemed to turn upside down inside her gut.

Suddenly a gun clicked behind her. "On your feet! Now!"

----------

The last of the tombs.

Gravheine breathed in the dank, musty air of the place, an ancient chamber that hadn't been opened for thousands of years. Webs and dust covered everything, the fallen pillars, broken pedestals, and crumbling rock. Lines of painstakingly carved glyphs and inscriptions covered the walls, worn away in places but still very much legible. If one knew how to read the Centran language, that was. And Gravheine did. She read it and wrote it and spoke it as fluently as she did the common tongue.

It was, after all, the language of her birth.

_Aestat mi'res leyn,_ she thought. _To my home have I come._ Perhaps she hadn't strayed as far from her kin as she had once believed. Their nature was still very much a part of her. And a wish, faint though it was, that she could be with her people again. She had been alone for so long, walked the world in solitude for millennia with only her thoughts for companions. And the burning desire to see her love one more time, even if only for a moment. The promise her Queen had made to her in the darkness so long ago.

_Was that… really him?_

The thought came unbidden, and she tried to push it away, but her doubts remained. Gravheine had recognized Atrus' voice at once, the strong, quiet murmur she knew so well. How had he spoken through that girl? The bladestaff? Possibly. It had once belonged to Atrus, in the days when he had still lived and Gravheine had first loved him. She had never found out what had happened to it after his death—it had disappeared, and at the time she had been too consumed by grief to care. But now it was back, and with it her lover's spirit.

Shaking off her thoughts, Gravheine shifted her gaze to the central object of the chamber. The sorceress's coffin. Normally, the Estharian science crews would have opened it by now and extracted the item she needed, but this last one she wanted to do herself. Odine waited in dutiful silence next to her. He had proven useful, if irritating at times. But he had done what she had requested. And once Rufus delivered the Loire girl into Gravheine's hands, she would give her over to Odine as promised.

"Ze last one…" he whispered.

Gravheine nodded. "You did well, doctor. Now step back."

He did so, and Gravheine approached the stone box with slow, reverent steps. The sorceresses of the Coven were distant kin and together had ruled ancient Centra for many decades. Though of different backgrounds and motivations, they had come together as one to fight their common enemy, the Queen that Gravheine had abandoned her people to serve. The one who in their tales was more than the most powerful Centra who had ever lived. She who had been worshipped in the shadows as a goddess. Hyne's consort and the first true sorceress.

Seddhira, the Serpent Queen.

"Soon, my mistress," Gravheine murmured, "Our time is near."

Grasping the side of the coffin, Gravheine pushed with all her strength, and the stone lid slid aside with a hiss of escaping gas. Within was the dessicated corpse of a sorceress. Kesta, if she remembered right. One of the twelve sisters. Gravheine knew their names well. Malithra, Saraël, Kesta, and Jaleine. Naminé. Alora, Danilae, and Bethra. The twins, Isania and Miranda. Sabíne, the leader and founder, and Ellonara, the youngest.

Around the corpse's neck lay an intricate chain of shining mythril, somehow untarnished despite the countless years spent sealed within the coffin. Suspended from the chain was the final piece of the great puzzle, the last of the crystal fragments. It glittered and sparkled in the gloom like a tiny star. _To think, so much power in so small a thing. Such a little thing…_

Gravheine reached in and gently withdrew the chain with its delicate prize. So much effort expended to find the fragments, and now… now it was done. She slipped the crystal shard into a pocket in her robes and pulled the coffin shut. She disliked defiling the tombs of her kin, but necessity had demanded it. Motioning to Odine, she turned and left the chamber, the little scientist trailing in her wake.

"Shall I complete ze assembly now?" he asked.

Gravheine nodded. "Make your preparations. Once we have the full crystal, we must act quickly. I trust you have found my Queen's burial chamber?"

"It vas exactly ver you said it vould be."

"Good. I will meet you there shortly. Is the Legion ready?"

Odine rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "Az you instructed. Ze automated units are standing by. Vat of ze troops?"

"Once our Queen awakens, so will they," Gravheine answered.

"And Esthar vill be mine. But…"

Gravheine paused, not looking at Odine but simply waiting in the stillness of the corridor. A few meters ahead, a shaft of daylight stabbed down into the darkness like a finger, illuminating the dusty steps that led up to the surface. A soft breeze whispered through the opening and tossed strands of Gravheine's long black hair around her shoulders. She narrowed her amber eyes and sighed. "What is it, doctor?"

A hesitant cough. "Ze president iz not zere, my lady. He iz still in Trabia searching for Ellone. I vas hoping to have zem both."

"And so you shall. We will simply extend him an invitation."

"My lady?"

Gravheine smiled icily. "Once word of his daughter's presence in Esthar reaches him, Loire will return with haste. And we will be waiting."

"Ah, yes. I like zat very much."

"I thought you might. Now come. We must go."


	17. Complications

**Chapter 16  
Complications**

_Ellone, can you hear me?_

_Yes. I was hoping I'd be able to talk with you again._

_You must have a lot of questions._

_A few._

_Go on. I can't promise anything, though. But before you start, I want to apologize for what happened back at the cliffs. I used you, and I'm sorry._

_It's okay. You loved her once, didn't you?_

_I still do. It's why I bound a part of myself into the bladestaff before I died._

_What happened?_

_You'll see for yourself later. When you find what I brought you here for. Just as Gravheine needed a talisman, so do you. The black materia has its opposite._

_There's a… white materia?_

_Yes. Your new friends know where it is._

_Alright. Now for my questions. Atrus, are you going to use my body again like you did before? It was a little weird, but… if you really need to…_

_I hope it won't come to that. But if it does, I'll try to ask you first._

_Thanks._

_It was just so overwhelming, seeing her again. I couldn't help myself, Ellone—for the first time in three thousand years, I saw her._

_You want to save her. That's it, isn't it?_

_If I can._

_But what if she won't listen? Have you considered that?_

_Yes. If that happens… we'll have to fight her. I don't want to, but we can't let Gravheine finish what she's doing. It'll destroy everything. It's already begun._

_I feel it, too. Rage, hate… the planet's seething with it._

_That's her doing. It opens the way for her Queen._

_Who?_

_The one sealed away by the Coven. Gravheine's trying to revive her. And in so doing, bring me back to life. But she can't. Death can't just be undone._

_You did it with me, remember? You brought me back._

_Not all the way…_

_What do you mean? Atrus, what's happening to me? I feel pain in my body, an ache in my chest that grows a little more each day. What's going on?_

_I'm holding it back as long as I can, but… I can't do it forever._

_Do what? I don't understand._

_You died on Sa'miel's blade, Ellone. I can't change that. All I can do is delay it for a while._

_I… I'm dying…?_

_Slowly, bit by bit, but yes. I'm afraid so._

_How long do I have?_

_A week, maybe a little more. I'm sorry._

_It's not your fault, Atrus. You did what you could to save me, and I'm grateful. It's just… I never thought it would end so soon. My life, that is..._

_I know. No one does._

_I just hope I can see Squall and everybody else again before… before it happens._

_You will._

_Thank you. And I promise I'll do what I can to help you with Gravheine, even if it means a battle. We have to stop her, one way or the other._

_Right. But I should warn you, first._

_Oh?_

_The closer to the end you come, the weaker you'll be, and the harder it'll be for me to reach you. So we have to hurry or you won't have the strength to face her._

_Alright. Are you sure there's no stopping it?_

_I'm afraid not. You see, I'm fading along with you._

_Oh, Atrus!_

_You should try to wake up soon, Ellone. Your friends are worried about you._

_Will you be alright?_

_I'll reach you again before it's over. I promise._

----------

Ellone opened her eyes and found herself in bed.

Not hers, as she thought at first—that would have made everything that had happened to her a very bizarre dream—but someone else's. Soft brown and white plaid blankets and white cotton sheets covered her up to her chest, which ached dully. Her belly hurt, too, and she remembered the creeper that had attacked her in the airship's cargo hold. At that thought, Ellone sat up, wincing in pain, and saw to her relief that she wasn't alone.

"Vincent," she breathed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Was she? Atrus' words lingered in her mind, and while it was tempting to dismiss what he had said, the icy pain festering in her heart was undeniable. _It's really happening, isn't it?_ Ellone blinked back a tear—not for herself, but for Atrus. How long had his spirit lingered within the bladestaff, sustained only by the hope of seeing the woman he loved one last time? And he had sacrificed even that to save Ellone's life, if only for a short while.

It was a gift she didn't intend to waste.

Ellone looked up, aware of Vincent patiently waiting for a response to his question. Though her heart quivered, Ellone kept her voice calm. "I'll be fine. Where are we?"

"Icicle Inn," he replied. "This is Cloud and Tifa's house."

"Oh! Is everyone alright? The last I remember—"

Vincent nodded. "They are unharmed. We escaped and came here."

"How long have I been asleep?" Ellone asked.

"You were unconscious the whole night. It's just after sunrise now."

Sure enough, the world outside the bedroom window was bathed in pale morning sunlight. A light snow was falling, covering everything with yet more layers of chilly whiteness. Above the pines and the rooftops, a wall of frigid mountain peaks rose in the distance. Ellone was surprised at how much she could see, but the window was fairly large and let in a lot of light.

Ellone looked back at Vincent. "Was anyone else hurt?"

"No," he replied. "Just you. We treated your wounds but couldn't wake you. Had I seen the monster sooner, you wouldn't have been injured at all. Forgive me."

"You don't have to apologize, Vincent. It's not your fault."

Ellone took his good hand in hers, her skin tingling as she felt his gloved fingers warm beneath hers. It felt good, but more than that, it felt _right._ Still, what could she do? She had so little time left, and none for feelings like this. Ellone knew she ought to just push them aside, but she might as well have tried to keep her heart from beating.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she let Vincent help her to her feet. His grasp was firm but gentle as he pulled her up, but even so she came up a little too fast and suddenly lost her balance. Ellone pitched forward and tumbled helplessly into Vincent's arms with a startled gasp, grabbing his shoulders at the last moment as he caught her by the waist.

Everthing stopped. Her heart pounding, Ellone found herself unable to move. She was utterly transfixed by Vincent and his beautiful reddish-brown eyes. She couldn't even breathe, and it was with a start that she realized her face was only inches from his. An armada of butterflies turned her stomach inside out and upside down as warmth flooded her cheeks, and in that moment, Ellone realized she couldn't deny it any longer.

_I'm in love with him,_ she marveled.

Ellone slid a hand up into the long, dark mane of his hair. Even as she did so, Vincent pressed her more firmly to him, his good hand moving to the small of her back, and Ellone felt her heart racing even faster. Did he feel the same way? Ellone hoped so. At his touch, everything else fled from her mind, and her gaze darted back and forth between his eyes and his mouth as her face drifted closer to his.

Suddenly there was a discreet cough, and Ellone gasped and stepped away so quickly she nearly fell backward onto the bed. She barely caught herself in time, however, and steadied herself on legs that felt like gelatin. Blushing so badly she thought she must look like a ripe tomato, Ellone swallowed and somehow managed to look up and see Tifa standing in the doorway.

She wasn't quite able to hide a smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"N-No, um, you weren't!" Ellone stammered. "I was just—I-I mean we were—that is—"

"Ellone lost her balance, and I caught her," Vincent supplied. He seemed considerably calmer than Ellone, and if he felt any discomfort, he didn't show it. "That's all."

Without another word, he turned and left. As soon as he was gone, Tifa closed the door, crossed the room, and pulled up the plain wooden chair he'd been sitting on. She sat down and motioned for Ellone to take a seat on the bed. Ellone did so. Her cheeks were still flaming, and she found it strangely difficult to meet her friend's gaze. When she finally did, Ellone had to blink to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

Tifa wasn't bothering to hide her smile anymore. "You like him, don't you?"

"Wha…?"

"I saw the two of you just now. But I didn't need to, not really. I think I already knew. The way you look at him says it all."

Ellone's jaw sagged. "Oh, gosh! Really?"

Tifa nodded. "Yeah. It _was_ kind of obvious. Well, to me, anyway. Feminine intuition and all that. But I don't think anyone else knows."

"Oh. Well, that's good. But, um… you won't say anything, will you?"

"Of course not," Tifa assured her. "I won't tell anyone. But what about you? Are you going to tell Vincent how you feel about him?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Ellone wanted him to know, sure, but at the same time she was terrified of it. How would he react if he found out? Now that Vincent wasn't in the room with her and she could think with some degree of rationality, Ellone admitted to herself that it was pretty unlikely that he had any such feelings for her. He was a quiet, solitary man—not unlike Squall in some ways—and Ellone found the idea of him even thinking of having a romantic relationship of any kind, let alone with her, increasingly difficult to believe.

Ellone sighed. "I don't think that I can…"

"Why not?"

"It's just… well, it's complicated," Ellone answered. "And besides, I don't even know if it's real or not. It's all happening so fast…"

Tifa smiled. "I think it's real enough, don't you?"

"Maybe. But I still can't tell him, even if it is. If it were just about being from different worlds, I think I still might. But it's no—"

Ellone winced as the pain in her chest suddenly flared so badly she had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from letting out more than a gasp. It was almost as though she'd been stabbed again, and for an instant memories of the attack flashed through her mind like some macabre slideshow. Steel flashing in the night, plunging into her back only to burst out between her ribs, the shining metal smeared with blood. Pain then, and pain now.

Hands grasped her shoulders, and Ellone heard Tifa's voice calling her back to the present. "Ellone! What's wrong?"

Slowly, Ellone opened her eyes. "This is why, Tifa. This is why I can't tell him."

"I don't understand…"

"Remember back at the cabin, when I was telling you and Cloud how I got here? About Atrus and how he brought me back when I was killed?"

Tifa frowned. "Something went wrong, didn't it?"

"His power has its limits, Tifa. He was able to revive me, but it's _his_ life force that's keeping me going. His power. And it's running out."

"You mean…?"

Ellone nodded. "Yes. I don't have much time. A week or so at most."

"We'll save you, Ellone," Tifa swore. "I pro—"

"No! There's no time for that! Tifa, I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I can't let you do it. We have to stop Gravheine. Nothing else matters."

"Not even your life?"

A bitter sigh escaped Ellone's lips. "My life ended back in Trabia. I'm just taking a little longer to die than most people."

"Bullshit! There might still be a way to stop whatever's happening to you. We can look for that and still fight Gravheine at the same time. You saved my life and Marlene's, Ellone. Let me at least try to save yours."

"Alright, but… let me tell Vincent, okay?"

"Good enough. Don't worry about the others, though. I think we'll just keep it between us and Cloud for now. Is that alright?"

Ellone nodded. "Yes. That should be fine."

Tifa looked at her knowingly. "Even though you might only have a week or so left, you should still tell Vincent how you feel about him."

"I don't know, Tifa. How could I do that to him? How could I open my heart to him when we'd have so little time together?"

"Why don't you let him decide?" Tifa replied gently.

Ellone blinked. "Maybe. But what if he doesn't feel the same way?"

"That's the chance you take. I was in love with Cloud for the longest time before I finally told him how I felt. It was one of the most frightening things I've ever done, but I'm glad I did it. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have found out that he loved me, too."

"I hope Vincent feels that way about me…"

Tifa smiled. "He's a good man. And I think he's been alone long enough."

----------

Some two hours later, Ellone stood on the bridge of the _Shera_ as it sped south to what Cloud had called the Forgotten City. She had told him and the others about Atrus, Gravheine, and the white materia, and while recovering it would be difficult—Cloud had pointed out that it lay at the bottom of a deep lake in the locked underground portion of the city—Ellone knew she could do it. With every mile she drew nearer to the place, she felt more and more like she was coming home. The soft whispers in her mind, that faint chorus she had first heard in Trabia, had risen again, with the larger voice underlying it.

_The voice of the planet. That's what it is. And… the lifestream?_

How did she know that? She hadn't discovered it—she had remembered it. Had she been here before? Or was it something in her power? Perhaps one of Atrus' memories, yet how was that possible? Questions swirled through Ellone's mind like fireflies, and the only thing she was certain of now was that the answers lay at the heart of the Forgotten City.

Ellone turned away from front bridge viewport to look at the odd group of people she had come to call her friends. A little ways to her right stood Tifa. Dressed in a zippered sleeveless vest, gloves, and tailed skirt shorts of black leather, she smiled gently at Ellone with warm, chocolate-shaded eyes before looking back outside. Her long, straight hair was a rich raven brown streaked with lighter highlights, and it hung most of the way down her back.

Next to Tifa with his arms folded across his chest, Cloud met Ellone's gaze briefly. By now he knew of her condition, too. But she doubted he and Tifa would be able to do anything for her. The pain lingered in her chest, a cold ache that bit at her lungs with every breath she took. _My body's shutting down, a little at a time. That's why it hurts so much._ Ellone looked at Cloud and saw determination in her friend's glowing blue irises, in the set of his jaw and shoulders. His huge sword hung in its harness on his back, and with his dark clothes and elbow-length leather gloves, he certainly looked like the warrior he was.

"Cid," he said, turning to the back of the bridge where the gruff pilot was manning the helm. "How long 'till we reach the Sleeping Forest?"

"About two hours, give or take a fuckin' minute."

Ellone stifled a chuckle. Cid Highwind was nothing like the Cid she knew in her own world. Irascible, foul-mouthed, and always quick with a jibe, the _Shera_'s pilot could have been headmaster Cid's polar opposite. Yet in at least one way, they were the same. Both were good men at heart. When she had first come aboard, Cid had grinned and offered Ellone a tour of the vessel. It wasn't her first time flying, but Cid's almost infectious love for it made it feel like it was. He was the very picture of a pilot with his blue t-shirt, khaki pants, and flight goggles nestled on his forehead just above his cornflower eyes.

There was a queasy groan as Yuffie clutched her stomach. "Can't you move this thing any faster? I swear I'm gonna hurl if we stay up here much long— Urp!"

"Quit yer goddamn yappin'," Cid growled. "We'll get there when we fuckin' get there."

"Are you alright, Yuffie?" Ellone asked.

Lowerering her hand from her mouth, the younger girl nodded despite looking somewhat green. In her other hand, she clutched her four-pointed shuriken with whitened knuckles as if it were the only thing holding her upright. Nevertheless, she waved off Ellone's offer of help and glared darkly at Cid with exotic, almond eyes. Wearing a pair of skimpy shorts and a silky sleeveless top of black adorned with white flowers, Yuffie reminded Ellone in some ways of Selphie, though she had a brashness to her that the other girl lacked.

Yuffie grimaced. "I'll be okay once we're on the ground. Motion sickness is a real pain in the ass. Especially with the way Cid flies."

"You don't like it, you can jump the hell off my ship," Cid snapped.

Unfazed, Yuffie merely laughed and stuck out her tongue at him before hurrying off the bridge to go someplace she called her "reserved spot" on the lower deck. Maybe somewhere she could be queasy in private? Ellone chuckled and thought that might be it. She looked at Tifa. "Are they always like this?"

She smiled. "Usually."

"So how we gonna get that white materia?" Barret frowned. "It's still sittin' at the bottom o' that big-ass lake, right?"

He must have been as big as Ward, Ellone guessed, and with his muscled bulk, newly-repaired gunfist, and the skull tattoo on his arm, Barret was a force to be reckoned with_. I'm glad he's on _my _side,_ Ellone thought with a little grin. Dark-skinned, with his sleeveless white jacket hanging open over his green trousers, Barret held Marlene's fingers in his good hand with infinite gentleness. After the ordeal at the cliffs, Ellone wasn't at all surprised that he wanted the little girl close where he could see she was safe.

Tifa nodded. "It should be there. But I'm not sure how we'll get it back."

Red padded up next to the navigation dome in the middle of the bridge, his one eye scanning his friends. The other was scarred closed from an old wound. His voice wasn't the rough growl Ellone had been expecting but instead was deep and cultured. She had no trouble believing Red was as intelligent as the others claimed. And he was what, only twenty or so by his race's standards? His blazing orange fur and flaming tail made him look to Ellone something like a moomba on four legs. Though she had to admit, she liked him better.

"A difficult problem," Red mused. "But one we must solve if we're to proceed. Do you know of how it might be done, Ellone?"

"I think so. I'll have to dive in and get it."

Barret scowled. "That lake's gotta be at least fifty feet deep, girl! Ain't nobody can hold their breath _that_ long."

"I can. With my power, that is."

"Are you sure?" Reeve asked. He was the bearded man in the blue overcoat. A politician or something, if Ellone remembered right, but he seemed decent enough. She thought he and Laguna might get along well if they ever met. That little blue cat on his shoulder—Cait Sith, was it?—was a weird one, though.

Ellone nodded. "Yes, I think so. But it's kind of hard to explain…"

"Go on an' give it a try, lassie," Cait encouraged. "It cannae hurt ta tell us what ye know."

"Alright. Although to be honest, my power's never acted this way until recently. It's changed from what it was, and sometimes I feel like I don't know myself anymore…"

Cloud exchanged glances with Tifa. "I can understand that."

"I know what it can do even though I don't know _how_ I know," Ellone went on. "Does that make any sense to you guys?"

"Racial consciousness," Vincent murmured.

Ellone blinked. "What?"

He looked at her, and her heart fluttered under the power of those reddish-brown eyes and the swirl of his long, dark hair. Wrapped in his crimson cloak and clad in black, Vincent leaned against the bulkhead next the helm. Hyne, he was so handsome. That air of mystery he kept around him only made it more so. Ellone wished she could act on her feelings, but… she still wasn't sure, despite Tifa's assurances.

"Memories shared through the lifestream," he explained. "Passed down from generation to generation. A group mind."

"Because I'm a Centra," Ellone sighed.

Red agreed. "That's how they're known in your world?"

"Yeah. But I think they evolved differently there than here. They accepted technology more readily than their cousins—the Gardens were originally Centra shelters built after the Lunar Cry that wiped out their homeland."

"What happened to them?" Tifa asked.

Ellone tried to remember. "I'm not sure. But they founded the two biggest nations in my world, Galbadia and Esthar, so most everyone today has at least a little Centra blood in them. It must have been diluted after so many generations, though, and their power with it."

"But you have more than most," Vincent surmised.

"I think you're right. At least, it feels that way. And I know I can get the white materia."

Tifa shook her head. "But what about the lifestream? Why is it so out of control?"

"Goddamn planet mad at us again or somethin'?" Cid muttered. "Heard reports of it turnin' red and tearin' the shit outta Mideel and Wutai."

Red looked at him. "There was an eruption in Cosmo Canyon as well in one of the side caverns. Fortunately the injuries were few."

"Is Denzel okay?" Tifa exclaimed.

Red nodded. "He's fine, Tifa. So are the rest of the kids. The elders are watching them while I'm gone. But we've sealed off that cave, just to be safe."

"Still, it may punch through," Cloud replied. "We have to do something."

Ellone thought of what Atrus had told her earlier. "Gravheine's the one corrupting the lifestream. If we stop her, it should return to normal."

There was a mechanized hiss as the bridge doors slid open and Yuffie stepped inside. But she wasn't alone. "Hey, look who I found hiding in the lower deck!"

"Denzel!" Tifa's jaw dropped. "Layla!"

Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, stood just ahead and to either side of Yuffie, who held them firmly by the shoulders, one in either hand. Ellone guessed the kids were about thirteen or fourteen. The boy's bright blue eyes looked out at her and the others nervously from beneath a tousled mop of russet hair while the girl—who seemed the less anxious of the two—simply waited in uneasy silence. Her chestnut hair done up in a pair of short ponytails, she looked at the boy with soft hazel eyes.

Denzel swallowed. "Um…hi, everyone…"

----------

Just a few blocks from one of Dollet's busier train stations, Zell crouched against the wall of the alley and waited impatiently for Sara to come back. She'd gone ahead to check the departure schedules—trains left for Deling City every day, but the times usually varied for security reasons. And what the hell were Galbadian troops doing here?

Zell sighed and hoped Quistis was alright. And, he supposed, Seifer, too. He didn't want to lose anyone else, not after all that had happened. The gunship had come apart beneath him and Sara under fire from Galbadian patrol vessels. _We just walked right into it, didn't we?_ At least they'd managed to get to the escape pod before the gunship exploded.

He'd wanted to go back and look for the others, but Sara had convinced him that Quistis and Seifer would find a way to continue the mission if they had made it. And if they hadn't, then Zell and Sara were the only ones who could. They had slunk through the back streets of Dollet since then, avoiding the soldiers wherever possible and making their way here to the train station. But once they got to Deling City, what then?

"Zell!" a voice hissed.

He whipped around, his fists flying up before him, but it was only Sara. Zell relaxed as she crept around the corner from the street and motioned for him to move farther down the alley. He did so, not saying a word until they were far enough back that they wouldn't be heard. Not that they would have anyway, what with the chugging of cars and trucks speeding down the road and the conversations of passersby on the sidewalks, but in this relatively quiet corner, Zell felt a little safer talking about his and Sara's situation.

"What's goin' on?" he asked.

Sara's green eyes were uneasy. "I did some asking around while I was at the station. Looks like President Caraway's been removed from office. Forcibly."

"What the heck? How come we never heard anything?"

"Everybody's attention was on the Garden getting bombed. Caraway disappeared at about the same time and hasn't been seen since."

Zell scratched his head. "Damn, that's bad. But who…?"

"The senate's running things right now," Sara answered, "but I doubt they're behind the president's removal. I think someone's using them."

"Any ideas?"

Sara nibbled on the tip of her blond braid. "I think I know who's behind it, but I can't be sure. She's had it in for Caraway and Garden for a long time, though."

"Who's that?" Zell wondered.

"Astasia Deling. She's Vinzer Deling's widow, and… my stepmother."

At first it didn't quite sink in, and Zell just stood there for a moment trying to figure it out. Why had she called the old president's widow her stepmom? Deling wasn't even Sara's last name. Was it? Come to think of it, Zell realized she'd never told him much about her family, except for growing up with her mother in Deling City before entering Galbadia Garden.

Sara sighed. "Zell… I told you that my name was Sara Trevor. I guess that's true enough—my real mother's last name _was_ Trevor—but my legal name is Sara Deling."

"Yo, you mean…?" Zell's eyes widened.

"Yeah. That son of a bitch was my father. Vinzer Deling."

Zell stared at her. "Damn… but, you said your dad was just a shopkeeper, that he died in a truck accident when you were little. Why'd you lie?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sara snapped. "I'm the daughter of the worst ruler Galbadia ever had. His only child. And an illegitimate one at that. Not that it was ever made public—he always passed me off as his and Astasia's daughter. Hyne, I hated that."

"You think someone wants to hurt you because of your dad?"

Sara nodded. "They might. A lot of people suffered while he was in charge. So I started using my mother's name instead."

"How come she never spoke up?" Zell wondered.

"My father paid her a small fortune to keep quiet about the affair he'd had with her and that I was her daughter instead of Astasia's. I loved my mom, Zell, but at the same time I hated her for not standing up to him. He made sure he could whisk me away to his side whenever he wanted, usually for some stupid photo shoot to spruce up his image."

Zell grimaced. He understood why Sara hadn't told him, but still… it hurt that she had lied. He clenched his fists to keep from lashing out, but anger raged within him nevertheless. What else didn't he know about her? Suddenly he wasn't so sure he knew her at all. Zell turned away, not wanting Sara to see him like this, but he couldn't hide the edge in his voice. "Frickin' hell, Sara… you're tellin' me all this _now?"_

"I didn't want you to hear it from Astasia. We'll have to face her sooner or later, so I wanted you to know the truth before that happens."

"Anythin' else I oughta know?"

Sara paused for so long that Zell thought she hadn't heard him. But she had. Zell looked back and saw she wasn't quite able to meet his gaze. So there _was_ something else. It didn't surprise him, not really—he'd always been too trusting. But of all people, Sara? Why her? Suddenly looking at her was like looking at a stranger, and Zell hated that feeling. It was like a knife twisting in his gut, and he had the idea it had only just begun.

It was a moment before Sara answered. "Zell… there are a lot of things you don't know about me, things I've never told you, but I'll explain everything after this mission's over, I promise. It's just… there are people in Galbadia who'd like nothing better than to make me pay for what my father did, and I've spent most of my adult life hiding my identity so they wouldn't find me. I'm sorry you got caught up in it."

"Was anything real?" Zell wondered. "Between us, I mean?"

Now Sara did look at him directly, taking his hands in hers. "Of course it was! I love you, Zell, and that's no lie."

"Let's just get this mission over with, 'kay?"

Zell headed off down the alley without looking back, hating himself for being so gullible. Maybe he should have married Lily when he had the chance. At least she had always been honest with him. Still, he'd broken it off with her and fallen for Sara almost at first sight. Blinded by love, as it were. _So what am I gonna do about it?_

That thought stopped him just as he reached the end of the alley where it met the street. Zell glanced back over his shoulder. Sara was just a few steps behind him, her emerald eyes colder than he had ever seen them. What _was_ he going to do? Break it off? He didn't know. But how could he love someone he couldn't trust?

Sara didn't bother to hide the hurt in her voice. "What are you looking at?"

"Not sure I know anymore," Zell answered softly.

----------

Cloud knew what Tifa was going to say even before she walked up, and sure enough, his hunch was right. "Go talk to him, Cloud."

"He doesn't want to be around me. Not that I blame him."

What had that kid been thinking, sneaking onto the ship while Cid was in Cosmo Canyon picking up Red? Had he really thought he'd be able to help Marlene? That was what he'd said, anyway. But actually, Cloud wasn't as surprised as he should have been. Denzel had proven a little reckless before, charging the massive Bahamut head-on years ago when he'd thought the giant dragon's blast had killed Tifa.

It had been over an hour since Yuffie had dragged Denzel and Layla onto the bridge, and it wouldn't be long before the ship reached the Sleeping Forest. The two kids were busy talking with Marlene and Ellone—they'd taken to the mysterious young woman as swiftly as Marlene had, and the ease with which Ellone handled the kids told Cloud that she was no stranger to being around such youngsters.

Cloud turned his gaze back out the bridge window at the wooded mountains unfolding below. He didn't want to think about Denzel, but with him here it was hard not to. They'd been so close, once. Before the move to Icicle and Tifa's second miscarriage. He'd been so preoccupied with helping Tifa recover that he hadn't noticed Denzel's unhappiness with their new home.

Cloud's delivery business had done well enough, but he'd wanted to spend more time with his family—his runs to Kalm and the Chocobo Farm and Junon had often taken him away for days at a time—and he and Tifa had agreed that the increasingly crowded streets of Midgar were no place to raise the kids. But Denzel hadn't liked the separation from his friends, nor the colder climate that Icicle Inn was named for.

"It wasn't your fault," Tifa said.

"I hit him, didn't I?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't call it a hit, Cloud. You barely even touched him."

"Try telling that to Denzel."

"I have," Tifa sighed. "So has Marlene."

Now Cloud did look at her. "Why would it make any difference coming from me, Tif? He's cut me off, you know that."

"I just want our family to be whole again."

Cloud nodded. So did he. But was that possible now? He let his gaze wander over to Denzel, the teenage boy who he'd always loved as a son even though he was adopted. Aeris had brought them together, in a way—Cloud had found Denzel right in front of her old church in the ruined Midgar slums. And he doubted she would want him and Denzel to continue going on as they were. He thought he knew exactly what she would say, too.

_Dilly-dally, shilly-shally. Remember, Cloud?_

"What is it?" Tifa smiled. She must have seen the faintly amused expression on his face.

He shook his head. "Nothing. But maybe you're right."

"Hey, Cloud," Cid drawled, "We're comin' up on the Sleepin' Forest. Get your scrawny ass in gear, would ya?"

Cloud looked back out the bridge windows and saw the modest settlement known as Bone Village and the sprawling carpet of trees that spread beyond it to the north for many miles. It would be dark by the time he and the others reached the city. Still, they couldn't afford to waste any time—Ellone only had so much, and while Cloud hoped he could find some way of saving her, he knew it was unlikely. But overcoming impossible odds was nothing new to him, nor was staring death in the face. He wasn't going to back down now.

Fifteen minutes later, Cloud sped with Tifa out of the _Shera_'s cargo bay atop the _Fenrir_ as Vincent and Ellone rode beside them on the _Blackbird_. The roar of Barret's WRO truck behind them filled Cloud's ears as he and the others plunged into the forest. There were roads here, though unpaved and seldom traveled. Sometimes Cloud had to swerve to avoid a fallen log or low branch, and he knew it must have been a bumpy ride for Barret and his passangers—hopefully Yuffie's motion sickness wasn't bugging her too much, but being cooped up with Cid and Barret couldn't have made it easy for her.

The trees flew past in a whitish blur, their glowing trunks eerie yet somehow soothing in the twilight. Reeve and Red had stayed behind in the ship to watch the kids, and while Cloud had resolved to have a talk with Denzel when this was all over, he couldn't help wondering if maybe it was too late. Still, he had to try.

Suddenly his phone rang. Cloud picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Cloud," Reeve answered. "We've got company. The scanners picked up a Shinra chopper just a minute ago. They're heading straight here."

"Reno and Rude?"

"Probably. I don't know what it is they want, but they seem to be in quite a hurry. That chopper's going as fast as it can."

Though he and the others hadn't fought against the Turks in years—they'd actually battled side by side against Kadaj and his gang—Cloud felt an uneasy tug in his gut. Rufus wouldn't have sent them here without reason, and the fact that he had known exactly where Cloud and the others were and where they were going only deepened Cloud's suspicions.

He frowned. "How long 'till they get here?"

"An hour at most. You'll get to the city, but I don't think they'll be too far behind you. Want me to talk to them, find out what's going on?"

"Yeah. Stall them if you can, Reeve. See what Rufus is after."

"Got it. And good luck out there."

He clicked off, and Cloud slipped his phone back into his pocket as Tifa spoke up from behind him. "Reno's coming?"

"Yeah," Cloud answered, "but I don't think it's to help."

"Then we'd better hurry. I'll call Barret and let him know what's going on."

Cloud nodded and pushed _Fenrir_ faster as Tifa flipped out her phone to get in touch with the others. The motorcycle's roar filled his ears, and to one side Vincent and Ellone kept up the pace on the _Blackbird_ while Barret rumbled behind them in the truck. Before long, Cloud could see an elegant, seashell-like structure rising from a clearing up ahead, and a vast glittering lake spread out before it. He brought the bike to a halt close to the water's edge as he and the others finally reached their destination.

Yuffie practically leaped out of the van, her hands over her mouth, and dashed off behind the nearest tree where she was promptly sick. As Cloud withdrew his swords from the motorcycle's storage bays while Tifa dismounted and put on her gloves, Yuffie trotted back out a moment later, her round face tinged with green and glaring angrily at Barret as he and Cid brought the truck to a halt and got out. "Sheez, Barret, where'd you learn how to drive? You must've hit every bump and log we saw!"

"We here, ain't we?" he growled.

"Barely. I feel like I just got off that new roller coaster at the Gold Saucer. Next time I'll stay behind and Red can go."

There was a dry scratching sound as Cid lit a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. "Fine by me. You yap too goddamn much, anyway."

"Hey, I heard that!" Yuffie snapped.

"Good. Now shut up."

Minutes later Cloud and the others marched along the shore to the shell hut, Ellone leading the way with himself and Vincent on either side just behind her. She seemed to know where she was going and didn't ask, but occasionally she would stop and close her eyes for a moment as though listening to some interior voice. Every so often a slight grimace of pain crossed her face and she would absently rub her chest just over her heart.

Cloud exchanged a glance with Vincent. His friend didn't know the truth of Ellone's condition yet, but neither was he blind. Still, he had been acting a little odd these last few days. Not odd, actually, but just not himself. Cloud wasn't sure what it was, which bothered him since he had never known anyone as coolly disciplined and self-controlled as Vincent was. Yet with Ellone, at least, his stern demeanor seemed to have softened a little.

Inside the shell hut, the single hallway wrapped itself around the middle area as it spiraled up to the top of the structure. The entrance to the lower city was still hidden by a swirling column of water and seaweed just as Cloud remembered. How were they going to get past it? He looked at Ellone, but she was already moving.

Closing her eyes, she stretched out her hands before the barrier and they began to glow. Ellone plunged her fingers into the strange water, and suddenly there was a flash so painfully bright that Cloud had to bring up his arm in front of his face and look away. When the afterimage finally started clearing away from his eyes a moment later, Cloud looked back at the barrier. Or rather, where it had been.

The column of water was gone.

In its place, shining steps of blue crystal led down into the dimness. But that wasn't what caught Cloud's attention and made him stare in disbelief. What he saw was that Ellone hadn't turned from the light—she was still facing the hidden entrance, and she didn't lower her arms right away. When she finally did move, it was more slowly than Cloud had expected, and she kept her hands in front of her, grasping for something until they found Vincent's arm.

"Ellone?" he asked.

She looked to the sound of his voice. "It's alright. We can go in now."

"But you can't see," Cloud argued.

Tifa's eyes widened. "What?"

"Huh?" Yuffie piped in. "Why didn't you look away with the rest of us? What gives?"

"Sorry to scare you," Ellone explained sheepishly, "but it'll only be for a little while. I think. I wasn't expecting it to be so bright."

Barret groaned. "So how you gonna find the white materia now?"

"I'll find it," she insisted.

"You sure?" Cloud asked. He didn't doubt her abilities, but if she couldn't see, how would she know what to look for?

Ellone nodded. "It'll be alright. I'll have my power to guide me."

"Good enough. Alright everyone, let's mosey."

"Shit, Cloud!" Cid spat. "How many goddamn times do I have to tell ya? Say it like a man or don't say it the fuck at all!"

Cloud shrugged. "Move out!"

With Vincent guiding Ellone, Cloud led the way down into the Forgotten Capital. He hadn't been in the underground city since Aerith's death, but for the first time visiting the place didn't bring any of his old guilt with it. He felt Tifa's hand slip into his, and together they descended the winding crystal stairs to the city below.


	18. The Serpent's Fang

**Chapter 17  
The Serpent's Fang**

Edea was uneasy.

She didn't know why. But nevertheless, a tiny pit of disquiet hovered within her gut and would not leave. It was midday, just a few hours after Laguna had left to join Kiros in the search for Ellone. It had been a week now since she had disappeared in the midst of a storm that still rumbled sullenly over the frigid plains. A week since that fateful day when Edea's life had been shattered forever. Cid was gone, and in his place there was only a cold hollow within Edea's heart, an ache tempered only by the miracle of her daughter's continued survival.

Edea looked up from her thoughts and smiled fondly at the baby in spite of her pain. Within the glass incubator, Sariese lay on her side, her breathing stronger although still regulated by the respirator to which she was connected. A steady beep sounded at regular intervals from the cardiac monitor, coinciding with the recurring spikes in the machine's wavelike display. Edea found listening to her daughter's heartbeat soothing, yet even that couldn't dispel the odd sense of unease that had stolen over her not long ago.

Something was wrong, out of place… but what?

A shiver passed through her without warning, an icy sliver of dread that flowed down her spine like cold water. Edea narrowed her eyes, glancing uncertainly around the room, but nothing showed itself. Yet her feeling of disquiet grew. The lights flickered for a moment, plunging the room into momentary shadow before they returned.

She could almost hear faint laughter in the shadow's wake, almost. Feminine laughter, cruel and cold. Or maybe it was just her imagination. Edea thought of the last time this had happened, just a few days prior to the bombing. Squall had told her what he'd learned from Mark Denham's interrogation, about the mysterious woman who'd used that poor young man to do her dirty work. There was something almost familiar about her…

Long, flowing black hair. A soft cloak and hood of deepest ebony. Clothes the color of midnight. A black viper, curled sinuously around her arm. And those eyes. Amber eyes, their pupils narrow reptilian slits. Edea shivered at the thought of those eyes. She _knew_ those eyes, but not from this woman. From somewhere else.

Edea wished she had remembered to ask Laguna if he'd found out anything about the Coven as she had asked, but with all that had happened, she'd forgotten all about it. There was some connection between the true owner of those eyes and the Coven, but whatever it was remained maddeningly out of her mental reach.

With a sigh, Edea went back to watching over her daughter.

----------

Within the confines of his holding cell, Mark Denham sighed and looked at his hands. Though they were clean, in truth they bore the blood of those who had died in the blast he had caused. Oh, he'd never been certain exactly what the device was, but he'd known it had to have been a weapon of some kind. And now, people were dead because of him.

Yet what choice had he had?

More would have died had he not acted. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. That's what the woman had said, with her husky, whispered voice—its brisk accent had reminded him somewhat of Quistis' voice, only with a much harsher edge to it. Mark shivered at the memory, his eyes darting around the small room as though the woman might slither out of the shadows at any moment.

Thankfully, illumination was steady. A pair of slender fluorescent tubes glowed white overhead within their rectangular plastic casing, and in the hall outside the cell, rows of similar bulbs provided constant light throughout the day. They glowed brightly now, but later they would be turned down during the evening hours. And it was in those times that Mark dreaded most, when the shadows were longest and the gloom at its darkest.

That was her element, after all.

Mark hadn't seen or heard from the woman since she had first come to him, yet he didn't think for a moment that he wouldn't see her again. His instincts told him otherwise, as did his fears. Part of him wanted her to come, to come and kill him and end it all. At least then he wouldn't have to face anyone else anymore. He wouldn't have to see the pain in his mother's eyes that was always there when she came to visit. And he hadn't heard a thing from Lily. Not that he blamed her. Still, it worried him that she hadn't stopped by.

Suddenly the lights flickered, dimmed, and died. Mark looked up as the cell was plunged into near total darkness. Only the red glow of the emergency lighting showed him any hint of his surroundings. A chill ran up his spine as the air seemed to freeze, and he heard the tendons in his neck creak as he turned to look outside the barred door of his cell.

It was dark, and from that darkness, _she_ came.

She didn't so much as step out of it as _flow_ out, as though she were a part of it, or it was a part of her. Mark backed up instinctively, trembling as she drew near. She glanced once at the bars of the cell, then simply walked right through them, her slitted amber eyes cold and glittering. She closed the distance between herself and Mark almost at once. Her hood was up, casting her oddly young face in shadow. It was a beautiful face, Mark realized, despite being twisted by untold years of bitterness and hate.

"W-what do you want?" he managed.

Her reptilian eyes narrowed. "I have another task for you."

"Another… task…?"

"Something simple," she whispered. "But important. And if you complete it, you will have your freedom. You and your dear friend."

Mark's eyes widened. "Lily's here, too?"

"In another wing of this facility, yes. For questioning."

She must have come forward after the attack, Mark reasoned. Just as he had. He sank down onto his bunk as he thought of Lily. It was his fault she was here. _I never should have told her,_ he sighed. _I shouldn't have gotten her involved._ But she was. Bitterly, Mark realized it made no difference in the end.

He looked at the woman, but couldn't meet her strange eyes. "And because I told her, she's an accomplice to murder. But where would we go if we got out of here? Squall and the others would come after us eventually. They aren't going to just forget about what I did."

"Come with me," the woman said, "and they will never find you. Either of you."

"Sorry, but I've done enough," Mark shook his head. "Go find someone else to do your dirty work. It's hard enough living with myself as it is."

The woman moved so fast Mark barely even realized it until he found himself slammed hard against the back wall of his cell, his wide, startled blue eyes staring right into her glittering amber ones. She held him by the neck in a viselike grip with one slender hand, lifting him high enough that feet dangled several inches above the floor.

Her slitted pupils blazed. "You _will_ help me, whether you wish it or not."

"You'll have to… kill me first…" Mark gasped.

A low, dry hissing suddenly split the air, and a glistening, scaled black form slithered out from the folds of the woman's cloak to wrap itself around her outstretched arm. The snake's forked tongue darted in and out as it regarded Mark with amber eyes not unlike those of its mistress. It opened its mouth, baring a set of curved, cruelly sharp fangs.

"H'soth itches for a bite," the woman purred, running her other hand lovingly over the coiled body of the serpent. "His venom is powerful, but only lethal when he so chooses."

"Wha… what are you going… to do…?"

The woman stroked the viper's head. "You will kill the sorceresses for me."

"No!" Mark's eyes widened.

"Your cooperation need not be voluntary. H'soth's venom can sometimes alter the brain to make it, shall we say, open to suggestion."

Pain blazed across Mark's shoulder and the base of his neck as H'soth struck. The feel of the poison inside him was like a thousand needles under his skin, setting his blood on fire. His mind swirled, the room spun, and then he was falling, crumpling to the ground. All he could see were eyes, amber eyes, their icy gaze boring into his soul. But they didn't belong to the woman or to the snake. Those were just facades for the real horror.

Mark tried to scream, but nothing came out.

The woman bent over him, leaning close so she filled his field of vision. Mark knew only pain, only the flames of the venom coursing in his veins. Yet he found he could still move, still act to a certain extent. He looked up, trembling uncontrollably, at the serpentine woman's strange face. The face that was a mask for she who still slept.

The mask softened ever so slightly. "I do not delight in causing pain, but neither will I be deterred. And the sorceresses must not be allowed to do that."

"Kill… Rinoa…" Mark murmured. "Kill Matron…"

"I would do so myself, but they would sense my presence should I draw too near to them. Even the one who is comatose."

Mark felt slender and thin into his hand. "What's… this…?"

"A dart, coated with H'soth's venom. The killing kind. You need only break the skin, once on each of the sorceresses."

"Guards…" Mark mumbled.

The woman nodded. "I will provide a suitable distraction."

"Lily…?"

"She will be here when you return. As will I. And we will leave together, in the same way I came. No one will be able to follow."

Mark stood up shakily, swooned, and righted himself. He looked down at the dart, a black thing with a needle-sharp point. Holding it as he would a pen, Mark lurched toward the cell door, wondering vaguely how he would get out. As if she had read his mind, the cloaked woman stretched out her hand, and a flickering arc of amber energy sizzled through the air and slammed into the lock. It clattered to the floor, and the door swung open.

His thoughts a jumble, Mark took a breath and stepped into the darkness.

----------

Squall pressed the door chime again, though he doubted he'd get an answer. Irvine had confined himself to his quarters ever since Dr. Kadowaki had released him yesterday. He wasn't fully recovered from his injuries, but enough that he could function, and right now Squall needed every friend he could get. Ordinarily, he would have allowed Irvine time for his grief, but with the Galbadia team missing, there was no one else.

It wasn't as though he blamed Irvine, though. Squall didn't want to accept the losses either. But they were there, and he'd have to eventually. He knew that. Keeping busy in the meantime helped him focus and keep from losing himself in his frustration. Somehow, he had to get Irvine to do the same. It was the only way he would be able to move on.

Receiving no answer, and hardly expecting one, Squall entered his security override code into the lock panel. The door slid open with a soft hiss, and he stepped inside. "Irvine?"

No answer. But Squall saw the lean form of his friend. Irvine sat on the sofa with his back to the door and his Exeter rifle in his hands. His cowboy hat lay on the cushion next to him. As Squall drew closer, he realized that Irvine was holding the barrel of the gun to his mouth. He glanced slightly to his left as Squall approached him.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Irvine didn't move. "Ending it."

"How long have you been sitting here like this?"

"Don't know. Hours, maybe."

Squall sighed. "You know Selphie wouldn't want that."

"Never thought I'd, like, get counseling from you, of all people. Usually Sefie's the one I take my problems to, but she's not here anymore, is she?"

"No, she's not. But you are."

Irvine grimaced. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you still have a life. And friends who need you. _I_ need you. We've lost contact with the Galbadia team, Irvine."

"They're probably dead."

Squall shook his head. "I'm not giving up on them yet. And neither should you."

"Why not? I already gave up on everything else."

"Did you?" Squall asked quietly.

Irvine didn't answer at first. Instead, he looked away again, his eyes green and dry and dead, unfeeling. Squall didn't like that. It wasn't like Irvine at all. The cowboy was usually one of his rowdier friends, always good for a laugh. An incurable flirt yet devoted lover to Selphie. But now… now it was like all the life had been taken from him, and all that was left was a dry shell that only resembled the Irvine that Squall knew.

"Sefie was everything to me, man," Irvine murmured. "I got nothin' else."

"If that's true, if you're so eager to die, why haven't you pulled the trigger yet?" Squall pressed. "Why have you been sitting here in the dark for hours instead?"

Irvine shook his head. "I don't know…"

Squall reached out and gently pushed the gun away. "I don't think you want to die as much as you think you do. Right?"

As though a spring had unfolded within his body, Irvine suddenly gave a great shudder, slumping forward as the tears finally came. "Shit, man! Like, what am I supposed to do without her? It was supposed to be the best goddamn day of my life!"

"Help me track down the Galbadia team, Irvine. You know the region better than any of us here. If Zell and Sara and the others are going to have any chance at all, we've got to act soon. I've already got the _Ragnarok_ prepped for launch."

"Sara…? Shit, man…"

Squall frowned. "What about her?"

"Nothin' you need to worry about. Just… personal stuff. She's… an old friend… from back when I was still at Galbadia Garden."

"Well, whatever," Squall said. "You coming?"

Irvine sighed, nodded, and lowered the gun. "Yeah. Sefie, she… she'd want me to…"

He looked to his left, at a framed picture on the wall. It was of himself and Selphie at the beach in Balamb. Wet and smiling in the summer heat, they'd thought their whole lives were head of them, that all was right with the world. But now, Selphie was gone. Squall missed her, too, but grief would have to wait.

Nodding to himself as though coming to some internal decision, Irvine stood, his eyes still wet but now free of that disturbing sense of deadness. He turned and look at Squall directly for the first time, and for a moment he was almost himself again. Almost. Irvine picked up his hat, settled it on his head, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Let's get goin', shall we?" he drawled.

Squall nodded. "Right. We'd better get mov—"

Suddenly everything went dark. A moment later, the emergency lighting kicked in, and in its dim red glow, Squall was barely able to make out Irvine in front him. He looked up, whirling around as the air conditing units went off. All was quiet.

"What the hell?" Irvine frowned.

"Somebody cut the pow— _shit!_ Irvine, come on!"

Irvine hurried after him. "What's goin' on, man? Who could do this?"

"I've got an idea," Squall answered grimly as he reached the door. "Help me with the door, will you? We've got to get to the infirmary, now!"

Irvine nodded, and together he and Squall pulled the door open. With the power out, it groaned in protest. Squall grimaced, straining, and with Irvine's help shoved it along its track far enough that he and his friend could get out. As soon as he was clear, Squall sped through the darkened halls of the Garden at a dead run.

The sounds of panicked screaming mixed with bestial snarls confirmed his fears. Squall brought up his gunblade as he ran, using his ears to find his way since in the darkness his eyes were all but useless. There was fighting going on in the halls, and it grew louder as Squall drew closer to the source. The power outage must've released the locks in the training center, he guessed, but that didn't make sense. The security grids there were on their own generator separate from the Garden's main power supply. If some—

Squall leapt aside, his thoughts scattering, as something huge and dark suddenly sprang out of the shadows toward him. Lean, four-legged, and with black bony armor plating and a whiplike tail, the thing looked out at him with dark, feral eyes. In the wan glow of the emergency lighting, Squall saw swarms of the things racing through the halls.

Irvine took aim. "What the fuck is that?"

He fired, but the thing sidestepped almost the instant the gun went off. Squall was faster, though. He whipped his gunblade in a sidelong slash right across the thing's path, cutting right through it. The monster exploded in a cloud of black ash and was gone.

"I don't know," Squall grimaced. "Come on!"

He ran on, Irvine at his side, and hurried as fast as he could through the chaos. All around him, Garden personnel fought against the black creatures, and more than once he and Irvine had to fight their way through them, Irvine blasting shot after shot as Squall cut and sliced one after another. But it was taking too long, and there were too many of them. It was as though they were spawning from the darkness itself.

Squall only hoped he could get to Rinoa and Matron in time.

----------

When the gloom cleared, Mark emerged onto a scene of utter chaos.

Vicious monsters—lean, armor-plated things with lashing tails and four clawed legs—snarled and roared and attacked in the midst of the infirmary. Students—some SeeDs, some cadets, and Dr. Kadowaki and a few of her assistants—fought desperately against them. Monster after monster erupted into black vapor under an assault of magic, steel, and gunfire, but more took their place almost instantly. Mark gave the battle once glance and moved on.

Down the hall leading to the ICU, Raijin and Fujin were occupied fighting more of the monsters. Mark hurried past them, weaving through the mesh of bodies before Seifer's flunkies could spot him. As he pushed his way through the double doors and into the ICU, Mark readied the poisoned dart. He would deal with Matron first, as she would be the more difficult of the two. Rinoa could wait for now.

H'soth's venom still burned within Mark's blood, and every step was an agony both mental and physical. Part of him screamed at himself to stop, but it was as though he were a prisoner in his own body. He watched himself move toward Matron, noting that there were no monsters in the room as of yet. Mark wanted to warn her, to tell her to run, but the serpent's poison kept his jaws locked tight. Sweat rolled down his cheeks, and his steps were unsteady. But his grip as he grabbed Matron's arm was like a steel clamp. He shoved her against the glass incubator unit behind her and pinned her against it with strength not his own.

She didn't scream, didn't cry out. She simply looked at him, her soft eyes seeming to know the struggle inside him. "Mark…"

"I'm sorry…" he managed, and raised the dart.

But it didn't move. The venom burned him inside like lava, but Mark fought not to strike. His eyes locked on the dart, he struggled to lower the weapon, to do anything besides kill his dear Matron. Even if it meant putting Lily in danger. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he went through this, compulsion or not.

_Kill her…_

Mark shook his head even as dread filled his heart. That voice wasn't the woman's. It was colder, darker, older. Full of hate and malice, like shards of ice cutting into his stomach. Yet those same eyes hovered in his vision, overlaying the sight of his Matron, who trembled but showed nothing but sympathy for him in spite of her fear.

_Kill her…_

Reptilian, ancient, and cunning, the voice ordered him again. Amber eyes, the eyes of a serpent, pierced his mind. Mark shivered, sweat coating his skin, and fought not to obey. The room spun around him, and his vision blurred. The fire in his blood burned hotter than ever, and he found himself as much leaning on Matron as holding her in place. A glance at his arm told him he was shaking, yet the hand holding the dart never wavered.

_Kill her…_

Sliding his eyes closed, Mark exhaled. He tried to steady his dizzied mind, to get back a bit of himself. But H'soth's venom was strong, and his arm inched lower, bringing the dart closer to Matron's skin. Mark gritted his teeth, knowing he would never be able to stop its inexorable descent. But maybe he didn't have to. Exerting every bit of will he could muster, Mark shifted his aim away from Matron's arm at the last moment.

The dart plunged into his own arm instead.

----------

Squall burst through the doors of the ICU just in time to see Mark Denham crumple to the floor, a dart of some kind sticking out of his left arm. Matron bent over him, her eyes wet, paying no heed to Squall and Irvine. She held the former cadet as convulsions wracked his body. His face was flushed, and his eyes were growing cloudy.

"Commander…" he croaked, seeing Squall.

As Irvine hurried out to get help, Squall knelt next to Mark. "What happened?"

"I… I couldn't do it…"

"It was that woman, wasn't it?" Squall's eyes narrowed. "She wanted you to kill Matron and Rinoa. Is that right?"

Mark shuddered. "Yeah…"

Squall looked at the dart for a moment, then took it out and tossed it aside. Anger filled him, anger at that woman for bringing so much death to his Garden, for turning a good and promising young cadet against his friends and his home. Squall wanted to hit something, anything. But then, a gentle hand took his.

"He fought her, Squall," Matron murmured. "At the end. He came back to us."

Squall nodded. "I know."

Just then, the doors burst open again, but it was only Irvine and Dr. Kadowaki. She hurried over to Mark's side, taking his vitals, but while the convulsions had slowed, his breathing had grown shallower. The doctor's downcast expression was all the confirmation Squall needed. He sighed and rose to his feet, his insides still swirling with rage.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his ankle. Mark's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Commander… she… she's not… not the one… you need to worry about…"

Squall frowned. "What?"

"She's… just a mask... Look to… to the one… behind…"

But that was all. No more words came. Nor would any come again. Mark's eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. He was gone. Dr. Kadowaki felt his neck and his wrist, then sighed and shook her head. Outside, the sounds of battle started to subside, but inside the ICU a heavy silence filled the air. Squall knelt for a moment and closed Mark's eyes.

For a long time, no one spoke. Squall pondered Mark's last words, knowing the effort it had taken just for the dying cadet to speak at all. A mask? If the woman who'd been striking at them so relentlessly for the past several weeks wasn't their real enemy, then who was? Squall saw his uneasiness mirrored in Matron's wet, red-rimmed eyes.

She bent down and touched her lips to Mark's forehead in a maternal kiss, then pulled away. Every cadet, every SeeD, was a child of hers. Not by blood, certainly, but by ties no less strong. Squall knew that, had always known that. Garden—Balamb Garden, at least—was a family. _His_ family. And he would be damned if he wasn't going to make somebody pay for all the hurt and loss that had come to it in these recent days.

Squall turned as the doors opened again, depositing Fujin and Raijin, both with cuts and scratches but little else. Fujin looked immediately to Matron. "UNHARMED?"

"I am uninjured, thank you," she replied.

Raijin breathed a sigh of relief. "We was afraid one o' them things mighta gotten in here, ya know? But it looks like we kept 'em out, ya know?"

"RINOA, SAFE," Fujin added.

Squall didn't wait to hear any more but instead hurried out the doors almost as quickly as he'd first entered them. In the commotion surrounding Denham's attack and death, he'd all but forgotten about her. Fujin's report had eased his anxiety a little, but it wasn't until he stepped into Rinoa's room and looked at her unconscious form that he truly relaxed.

She was, as Fujin had said, safe and unharmed.

But the poison was still working through her, he saw. Her breathing was shallow, almost as shallow as Mark's had been. Squall wondered why the venom was taking so long with her when it had killed Mark almost immediately. Was it because Rinoa was a sorceress? Did they have some kind of natural resistance to such toxins?

Whatever it was, Squall didn't care. Rinoa was still alive, and even it was only by a thread, he would take it. He crossed the room to the side of her bed and took her hand in both of his. She didn't respond, but he hadn't expected her to.

A slight shuffling by the door caught Squall's attention, and he turned to see Irvine looking thoughtfully past him at Rinoa. "Damn…"

"She's still with us, Irvine," Squall said.

Irvine nodded. "I know."

"Are you?"

The question caught Irvine off guard, but only for a moment. A small grin—a tiny ghost of the larger, crooked ones he had so often worn when Selphie had been alive—spread across his face. "You bet, man. For me, and for Sefie."

Matron appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Squall?"

"Yeah?"

"How is she?" Matron asked.

Squall sighed. "Rinoa's still hanging on, but… I don't know how much longer she can last like this. We've got to do something."

"You musn't let her die, Squall. If she does, all is lost."

It wasn't as though he needed to be told to do everything he could to save Rinoa, but Matron's urgency puzzled him. Unless there was something about Rinoa, some connection with what was happening. Squall knew little of her powers as a sorceress, and Rinoa had still been learning about them herself from Matron. What might she not have known about herself that Matron seemed to think was so vital now?

Squall frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It came to me. What I've been trying to recall for some time now. About the Coven, the Centra, even Gravheine, the woman in black. When Mark… when he lay dying… the memories finally surfaced. All of them. That's why Gravheine wanted me dead, Squall. She didn't want me to remember the truth."

"I don't understand."

Matron nodded. "It's difficult to explain. But before I do, would you contact Laguna and have him return here as soon as he can?"

"Sure, but why?" Squall asked.

"Because I know where Ellone is."

----------

Blackness crowded in on Lily from all sides, and from it came a woman, hooded and cloaked all in black, with amber eyes like a snake's. She passed right through the bars of the cell as though they weren't even there, and Lily swallowed hard.

"W-W-Who are you?" she stammered.

The woman's soft smile was anything but comforting. "One who can help you."

Lily chewed the end of one her dark pigtails nervously. "What d-do you mean? I-I really don't feel right about this."

"Neither did Mark, as I am sure you know."

"Mark? Where is he?" Lily exclaimed. "Is he alright? I heard we were under attack!"

Lily had heard the distant sounds of growls, of snarling and shouting and gunfire and the explosions of spells. She had covered her ears to block it out, but with little success. Worry gnawed at her. Worry for her friends, worry for Mark. She didn't think she was in love with him, but she liked him. Part her still missed what she had had with Zell, was still in love with Zell, and she hadn't thought it fair to Mark to try having a closer relationship with him while she was still working through her feelings for Zell.

If only he hadn't canceled the wedding, everything would have been fine.

The woman's voice drew Lily back to the present with brutal harshness. "Mark is dead."

Lily blinked, suddenly numb. Her jaw went slack, and she waited for the tears to come. But they didn't. Her skin felt hot and her breath short, yet the tears would not come. What came instead was anger. Anger at Mark, for getting himself involved with this woman in the first place. Anger at the woman, for using him. Anger at herself for not stopping him when she'd had the chance, for not telling the commander or Instructor Trepe or anybody about what Mark had been planning to do.

"How?" Lily heard herself ask in a hollow voice not her own.

"One of the beasts caught him in the hall," the woman explained, her cold voice almost gentle. "I was trying to get him out of the Garden, but I was too late to save him. So I am here to take you from this place, as he wanted."

Lily backed away from her. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"How do you know I am?" the corner of the woman's lip curled up in a knowing smile.

"I can't go. I have to stay and face up to what I've done."

The woman nodded. "If that is your wish. But do you know that the SeeDs recently sent to Galbadia are now missing?"

Lily's eyes widened, and her heart lurched. "What?"

"They are likely still alive, but deep inside Galbadian territory—President Caraway no longer has control there. They will need help in order to survive."

"I can't do anything," Lily murmured. "I wish I could…"

The woman drew closer, her gaze knowing. "One of those SeeDs is dear to you, yes?"

"How… how do you know that?"

"Because I, too, once loved, long ago," the woman explained quietly.

In that, at least, Lily could see the woman spoke truthfully. Her amber eyes grew distant, and for just the most fleeting of moments, Lily thought she could see a hint of sadness, of longing, within those slitted pupils. Then it was gone, as swiftly as it had come, leaving Lily to wonder if she had actually seen anything at all.

Although she was sad for Mark, it was Zell for whom her heart ached. "Can… can you help me? Help me save Zell?"

The woman's arms widened in invitation. "I will take you to him."

Lily paused, uncertain. She didn't trust this woman, but at the same time, Zell was in trouble. Or might be in trouble. For all Lily knew, the woman might have made it up. But that wasn't true. Lily had heard mention of the Galbadia team's disappearance herself from other cadets and SeeDs passing by outside her cell.

But was that any reason to accept the woman's offer? And even if it was genuine, Lily had no idea what she hoped to accomplish. She had never been much of a fighter, preferring to spend her time in the Garden's library reading and working rather than practicing what little combat skills she knew, the basic techniques all Garden cadets learned. Yet if there was any way at all that she could help Zell, she had to try.

Taking a long, deep breath, Lily stepped into the woman's embrace. Suddenly she was falling, or she felt like she was falling. Her stomach did a lazy roll, and Lily had to make an effort not to be sick. What was happening? All she knew was that it was dark and that she wasn't in the Garden anymore. Had she made a mistake?

If Lily had seen the woman's cunning smile, she would have thought so.


	19. Memories in the Water

**Chapter 18  
Memories in the Water**

"We're here," Vincent intoned.

Ellone nodded at the sound of his voice but said nothing. Her eyesight hadn't returned yet, so her hand still rested on his shoulder as they at last reached the bottom of the winding staircase. It had been a quiet descent—even Yuffie had said little—and from what she knew of her friends' experiences here, Ellone understood why. But she herself had kept quiet for a different reason. Her answers lay here somewhere, and in her blood and bones she felt a call, a knowing, that seemed to infuse her very being.

She knew this place. Ellone had never set foot here before, yet it was unmistakably familiar. It was home, the home of her ancestors and their kin. Though later separated and forced to live in separate worlds, they had originated here. Ellone heard their whispers in her mind like a chorus in the distance. And beneath it, the greater voice, so vast it was almost immeasurable. The voice of the planet, formed of the many smaller voices merging and melding together as one without losing their essence of self.

Letting go of Vincent, Ellone moved forward on her own, her arms ahead of her to find any obstacles. But she knew there were none. Instinct guided her steps, and something else. Though he hadn't spoken yet, Atrus was there with her. Ellone could feel the comforting sensation of his presence within her mind, stronger here than at any other time he had contacted her. But for now, he remained silent, and she thought she knew why.

_I have to do this on my own. My test as a Centra._

"Wait here," she told the others.

Walking slowly but surely ahead, Ellone made her way through what she knew to be the upper streets until her hands happened upon the smooth marble railing of a staircase leading down. It was cool to the touch, but only a little. Ellone slid her fingers lightly along it as she carefully descended to the lower levels of the city, and from somewhere down below, she heard the gentle lapping of water against stone.

Ellone saw nothing, though her eyes were open. Her blindness was part of the test. As she moved forward toward the sound of the water, Ellone let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She fell into herself, letting her instincts and her power guide her. The ever-present tingling in her blood grew stronger, a warm current swirling beneath her skin. Ellone reached over her shoulder and pulled her bladestaff from its harness. The weapon was incomplete, she realized. It was missing something.

The white materia.

At last, Ellone came to a halt at the water's edge. She knew that off to her left, a series of pillars rose up like steps to an ornately carved platform raised above the water by stone columns. The scene was as clear in her mind as if she were seeing it with her eyes. But it wasn't what she was here for. Ellone focused her thoughts on the task ahead of her.

Sitting down for a moment, Ellone put the bladestaff on the ground next to her and pulled off her boots and socks. She wiggled her toes as they came free, then slipped out of her coat so that she was just in her blue jeans and the sleeveless green halter top Tifa had given her to replace her bloodspattered shirt. Taking a long, deep breath, Ellone let everything else fall away, her thoughts scattering like leaves on the wind until there was nothing but silence. She reached back, unfastened her little ponytail, and let her hair fall free above her shoulders.

Her mind settled, Ellone dove into the water.

It closed in around her on all sides, the endless quiet. Down she swam, ever deeper, her lungs burning as the air within them lessened. But she knew what she had to do. She wouldn't fail. She couldn't fail. For the first time, Ellone gave herself fully to her power, letting it take her where she knew she had to go. She had no idea how deep beneath the surface she was, only that she was descending further from it every moment.

At that thought, panic flashed across her mind as the truth of her surroundings threatened to crash in on her. Ellone hesitated, already straining to hold her breath, wondering how she was ever going to make it back. But she faltered for only a moment, her resolve strengthening again as she allowed the power within her to work, to supplement her burning lungs.

Ellone went on, sensing that the white materia wasn't far ahead of her. Its power waited, calling out to her with all the myriad voices of the planet and her ancestors. They whispered to her in her mind, encouraging her, beckoning her forward, and Ellone swam faster, her heart pounding with the exertion. She was almost there, and when her elbow brushed against the sand of the lake floor, she smiled wearily. Without her eyesight, without Atrus, Ellone nevertheless knew where to look. She felt the white materia's power, stronger now.

Within a few moments, she found it.

Had she been able to see, Ellone would have gazed wonderingly at its soft, pale green glow. It was small, much smaller than she had expected. But its power was great, far more so than even she knew. _So small, yet so strong,_ she marveled, and smiled as she heard her thought echoed in another voice, Atrus' voice, though he did not speak. Yet she suddenly got the feeling he wasn't referring to the white materia at all. A blush crept across her cheeks as she finally understood what—or rather, _who_—he had meant.

Heartened by the unspoken compliment, Ellone closed her fingers over the white materia. It flared to life at her touch, shining with such brightness that the light flooded even her blind eyes, blotting out the darkness. Ellone felt herself rising, speeding toward the surface although she had made no motion to do so. And as the white materia carried her up through the depths, Ellone lost track of her surroundings, lost track even of who and where she was, as memories overtook her, flooding her mind with images and sounds, voices she knew and yet didn't.

The past consumed her.

----------

"_You should not be here."_

_Nevertheless, she was glad he was. Her lips closed over his even as his arms held her close. She slid her fingers over his back and grasped the fine ponytail of his hair, unfastening the simple bit of string that held it together. The blond strands came loose, and she buried her hands within the soft, silky threads. She wanted him, needed him. Her heart beat so fast, so fast yet seemingly in time with his own. She smiled and kissed him more deeply as his hands—slender, supple, yet deceptively strong—found their way into her own hair, the long chestnut tresses he loved so much. _

"_Gravheine…" he murmured._

_She pulled away for a moment, looking at his clear blue eyes in the dimness of her tent. Her fingers trailed along his cheek. "What if you are discovered, Atrus?"_

"_I won't be," he assured her. "And I'll be back at my camp before anyone knows I'm gone."_

"_Anyone except Kaedan," Gravheine smiled._

_Atrus nodded. "He may be Lady Kesta's son, but he's still my best friend. Although sometimes he says I'm crazy for loving you."_

"_He may be right. But then, that makes me crazy for returning your love, does it not?"_

"_I suppose so," he whispered, kissing her again._

_She let him lead her to her blankets, knowing that all too soon they would likely see little enough of each other. Her people were at war with his, a blood feud between kin. Never had she thought it would happen, but it had. His people, while nomadic by nature as they wandered the planet, had always frowned upon the actions of their cousins, Gravheine and her people, who had begun to embrace the technology of those who had deigned to cease their wanderings and live a settled life._

_That they lived mostly in the other world, or on the other side, as was commonly said, made little difference. Yet things would not likely have come to bloodshed at all had the disagreements not escalated. Both her kin and his had the power to cross the boundary between worlds, and it was to escape their cousins' disapproval that Gravheine and her people had first come to this side not long ago, bringing their knowledge of technology with them._

_It was all still new, and she and the others still lived in the tents and huts they had known for so long. But only until their city could be built. They had already chosen the place, a plain on the southern continent, green like a sea of grass and with a lake so clear and blue it was a marvel just to look at. Its shores were only a few hundred yards from the closed flap of Gravheine's tent._

_Gravheine hated war, hated the killing and the bloodshed. She had argued many times with her people that the differences with their cousins could be resolved without such conflict. But always she had been overruled. She had never understood why. But at twenty-four years of age, she was still young. The council and the Coven likely saw her earnestness as merely idealism. Yet was not Lady Ellonara, the youngest of the Coven, only a handful of years older than Gravheine?_

_Still, things might not have come to war but for the children._

_Seventy of them, killed in a blast that had turned the night into temporary day some three months ago. What had once been an orphanage was now a smoking ruin, but whether the cause of the devastation came by magic or machine none could tell for certain. Shattered materia crystals had been found at the site, but so too had the mangled wires and blackened shards of metal that could only be remnants of the workings of unnatural technology._

_The first battle had come only days later, both sides blaming the other. And so it continued to go, week after week, sunrise to sunset. Gravheine wished it would end, but her pleas had long since fallen on deaf ears. The fighting went on. All in the name of the children, of course. Gravheine didn't know what had really happened that day and supposed it didn't really matter anymore. She had thought only to do the best she could to help those hurt in the fighting, regardless of what side they were on._

_Then she had met Atrus._

_Frustration ever gnawed at Gravheine, and fear. Fear that she loved a man who should be her enemy. Fear that she and Atrus would be found out. They had been lucky so far—he was an experienced scout and weaponsmith who could when he wished be as stealthy as a mouse—but how long could that last? How long before someone discovered them together?_

_The feel of his hands roaming her body soon drowned out all sensible thoughts, however, and Gravheine lay back to give herself to him as she had many times before. But as she was sliding his cloak from his shoulders, her eyes fell upon something she hadn't seen before, the protruding shaft and blade of a weapon she had heard about but never seen him carry before._

"_You finished it?" Gravheine marveled._

_Atrus stood up for a moment and pulled it from the harness hanging from his shoulders. "Finally. Though I hope I won't have to use it much."_

_Though she knew little of weapons and warfare—Gravheine made no secret of her hatred of them—she knew what the object before her was. A short, slender shaft of finely shaped wood and mythril wrapped in cured reptile hide dyed a deep black and balanced at either end by a sharp, elegantly curved blade inscribed with intricate, looping scrollwork. The blades curved away from each other, their edges facing in opposite directions like a flattened pinwheel._

"_It is beautiful," Gravheine whispered._

_Atrus smiled grimly. "My best work, I've no doubt. I put my very soul into making it."_

"_You did well. What do you call it?"_

"_I haven't actually thought of a name yet," Atrus mused. "But the weapon itself is a bladestaff. They're pretty rare, but not unheard of."_

_Gravheine put it gently aside. "I see. But let us forget such things for now."_

_She pulled him to her, kicking the weapon away as she did so, and Atrus kissed her fervently. Gravheine slid shut her rich brown eyes and returned his passion with her own. Outside, the camp was quiet, but within the confines of her tent she heard the soft moans of her own voice along with Atrus' whispered exhalations. She made love to him as she had on other nights not unlike this one, and when the sweet fire took her, she had to bite into the fabric of her pillow to keep quiet._

_Dawn crept in some hours later, and Gravheine awoke to find her lover gone. She wasn't surprised, however. Atrus had left while it was still dark, lest he be discovered. But not without a last, tender kiss on her cheek. Gravheine remembered that and smiled as a line of pale morning sunlight spilled in through the tent flap to flow across the fair skin of her bare shoulders._

_----------_

_Atrus gazed out across the smoking ruins of what had once been a Centra camp. Not Gravheine's, of that he was certain—he had just come from there not six hours ago—but another not unlike it. And not so far from it, either. His kin were closing, and the choice would be upon him soon. He was an advance scout for the main force, one of their best, and a talented craftsman. His father had taught him those skills when he'd still been just a boy and war with their cousins an absurdity._

"_Still thinking about her?" Kaedan asked._

_Atrus nodded. "Always."_

"_It's a dangerous line you're walking, my friend. Her kin won't accept you, and yours will never accept her. Or you, once they find out about her."_

"_I know. But then, you're getting close to that line yourself, aren't you?"_

_Kaedan laughed humorlessly. "I suppose so. Given that you and I ought to be enemies. But I hate this war too. My mother speaks always against it to the other Sisters."_

"_Yet still, the fighting goes on."_

"_You know they could end it, as could your High Lady. But neither Aerillia nor the Coven have much control anymore over the people. Emotions have run too high."_

_Atrus knew that. How often had he appealed to the Lady and her court in the northern capital? But he was just a lowly scout from one of the southern clans. His voice held no influence. But, then, why had he been chosen? Why had the white materia, Holy, called to him in his dreams? Why had it guided him into forging the bladestaff, into pouring all of his skills and knowledge into its making?_

_And why had it warned him so strongly about Gravheine?_

_Not so much in words, but in feelings. Wariness, caution, even fear. Atrus hadn't understood, not at first. Gravheine was a wonderful, peaceful young woman, elegant in speech and kind in heart. But after mulling over the impressions his visions of Holy had given him, he wondered. He had come to know Gravheine quite well over the last few months. She could at times be impulsive and short-tempered, and when she wanted something badly enough, there was little that could stop her single-minded determination. But what did it all mean? Everyone had their faults._

_Still, Atrus couldn't ignore his sense that something was wrong. Or soon would be._

_He sighed. "I don't much care anymore. All I want is to take Gravheine and go off someplace quiet where we can love each other without being afraid."_

"_It won't be easy, but you know I'll he—"_

"_Keadan, look!" Atrus suddenly seized his arm and turned him northeast._

_His friend's eyes widened. "Is that…?"_

_But Atrus was hardly listening anymore. He ran down the hill as swiftly as his booted feet would take him, speeding off toward the ugly orange glow to the northeast. He'd seen it just as he happened to look that way, and all other thought left him. Gravheine's camp was ablaze. It was what he and other other scouts had been sent to find, but… Atrus had made sure to keep his trail concealed, that it could not be traced. Had someone followed him?_

_Behind him, Kaedan was shouting at him to wait up, but Atrus couldn't. His heart pounded, and the bladestaff was in his hands before he even realized it. Low-hanging branches slapped him in the face, but he shoved them aside with hardly an effort and went on, his boots tearing through the undergrowth. Atrus leapt over a fallen log and sped through the woods toward the burning camp, the inferno brighter now ahead of him and closer._

"_Gravheine!" he shouted. The edge of the plain wasn't far now._

_No answer, but Atrus could hear now the panicked cries of civilians and the shouts and grunts of soldiers. Metal clashed against metal, magic sizzled and exploded in the air, and children cried. What was happening? Atrus snarled almost without realizing he was doing it. His people had until now struck only soldier camps and outposts. Not civilian settlements._

_Unless…_

_A chill ran down Atrus' spine. Unless it wasn't his forces at all. There was another, feared and little known, that struck without warning. People who had turned their backs to both sides, who had sought a darker road. Atrus swallowed. Both his kin and Gravheine's had their demons. And those who worshipped them. Power that was forbidden for a reason._

_Yet still, there were those who sought it._

_Atrus finally cleared the trees, racing through the grasses and see the dark, hooded shapes he had hoped never to encounter again. The followers of the Serpent. Some had tried to kill him already, to stop him from forging the weapon even now held ready in his hands. Atrus roared and spun low as he came to the first of the shapes. It swung a viciously curved scimitar to block, but too late. The bladestaff flared to life, shearing through fabric, flesh, and bone._

_The dark follower fell to the ground, cloven in two._

"_Gravheine!" Atrus called again._

_From somewhere distant, he thought he heard her voice, but he couldn't be sure. Atrus cut his way through more of the cloaked figures as he reached the edge of the camp. The dark ones were butchering everything in sight, from men and women to children and animals. Steel and sizzling bolts of amber fire were their weapons, and few could stand against them. A little girl and her brother crouched, whimpering, at the base of a burning tent as one of the cultists raised his slender hands, crackling with energy._

_But the blow never came. The dark shape jerked forward, dead before it hit the ground. Atrus stood over it, over the wide cut in its back, and motioned to the kids. "Run! Get to the woods!"_

_The girl nodded, picked up her brother, and ran back the way Atrus had come. He saved who he could, always making his way toward the sound of Gravheine's voice. Though mainly a healer, she could fight when she had to despite her hatred of it. And she was fighting now, a short sword in either hand, her forest-colored clothing light against the black of her enemies' robes._

_Atrus pushed himself further. He was almost there! He called out her name, and she turned, seeing him for the first time. "Atrus!"_

"_Gra—"_

_But he never finished. Atrus jerked backward as something cold and sharp suddenly sheared into his back. His head jerked back far enough and his eyes high enough that he could just see the black fabric of his killer's hood. A man, or something that had once been a man. He—it—must have leapt at him from behind, silent as a mouse. Their kind were known for their stealth._

_A whisper in his ear. "We knew you would come, chosen of Holy…"_

_Atrus glanced down, Gravheine's screams dim in his ears, and saw the tip of a blade protruding from his chest, slick with his own blood. His tunic was covered in it. The pain ripped through him, but somehow he managed to answer his murderer through gritted, bloody teeth. "It's… not over…"_

_With all his remaining strength, Atrus shoved himself off the dark one's sword and steadied his swimming vision long enough to spin the bladestaff high and fast behind him. Blood sprayed as the cultist's head flew from his shoulders. Then Atrus sagged as the ground rushed up to meet him. His weapon clattered to the ground, and his vision clouded._

_Soft arms caught him, and wetness spattered his face. Tears. Her tears. He couldn't make out what she was saying—everything sounded so far away now, and he could barely see her. But her eyes, brown and gentle and sad, stayed with him until the end. Atrust tried to speak, to tell her he loved her, but words wouldn't come. There was only pain, and darkness._

_For a moment, he saw another face bending over him. "Keadan..?"_

_His friend took his hand. "I tried to get to you sooner, but… there were too many of them."_

_Atrus knew. The black shapes had been everywhere. But even in his dimming vision, he could tell they were scattering. Had his killer been their leader? He thought so. Yet something told him they would find another soon enough. His eyes wandered to Gravheine, and he reached up to stroke her hair, to feel the long, light brown strands he had always loved._

_She wept, holding his hand to her, but before he returned to the planet, there was one more thing that had to be seen to. A precaution, maybe, but it had to be done. "Kaedan…"_

"_Yeah? I'm here," his dark-haired friend said._

_Atrus grasped the bladestaff with his free hand and slid it into Kaedan's. "Keep it safe. Keep her safe, too. Protect her. Always."_

"_I will. I promise."_

"_Gravheine," Atrus turned to her and touched her cheek. "I'll be with you… always…"_

_His hand fell away, and he knew nothing more._

_----------_

"_Atrus! Atrus!"_

_Gravheine called to him, wept over him, but he wouldn't answer. His eyes looked far past her, the life in them long gone. But she would not see it, refused to see it. He couldn't be gone. Not when they still had so much to do together. It just couldn't be. Gravheine held him, cradling him in her arms and telling herself he wasn't gone yet, there might still be a chance._

_She sensed the faintest glimmer of life still stirring within him, and hope blossomed inside her. Gravheine knew at once her own skills wouldn't be enough. But perhaps the elders could save him, enemy though he was. Surely they wouldn't turn away a wounded man who was their kin, would they? Gravheine knew they wouldn't, so she straightened, carrying her lover's body close, and hurried through the decimated camp. She ignored Kaedan's cries behind her, telling her it was too late, to slow down, to let Atrus go. But that was the one thing Gravheine could never do._

_A steady rain was falling now, putting out the flickering flames eating away at the tents and huts of the camp. Gravheine hurried to the center, hoping the elders were unharmed. They were powerful, though not like the sorceresses to whom they answered. If anyone could save Atrus, it would be them. Gravheine knew it in her soul. She would not lose him. She could not._

_At last she reached the central hut. To her relief, it was undamaged. Armed guards stood around it, and the elders and others with healing skills were helping the injured being brought to them. There were many, too many. Gravheine shouldered her way through, her tears mingling with the rain, until she stood before Anila, her friend and one of the elders to whom she answered._

"_Save him!" Graveine urged._

_She lay Atrus gently down before her, and the older woman bent to look at him for a moment. Her features hardened, however, and Gravheine read in them the finality of what had happened, the hopelessness of her cause. She steeled herself for the words, but even so, they tore at her soul more savagely and deeply than any blade ever could have._

_Ani shook her head. "I'm sorry, Gravhiene. He's gone."_

"_But I sensed life within him! You must try!"_

"_Even if I wanted to, I can't. Did you think I wouldn't recognize one of our enemies? You know we can't help him. He's beyond saving, in any case."_

_Gravheine shook her head. "He cannot be! What are you saying?"_

"_That bit of life is fading even as we speak. It is already out of reach. And because he is from the other side, I'm afraid we must take the body."_

"_What?"_

_Ani sighed. "We must know where he's been, and what he knew."_

"_Let me keep him… please," Gravheine's voice broke. "I… I love him…"_

"_That was not a wise thing to say," Ani replied sharply. She nodded to a pair of guards. "I must ask you to go with them. Consorting with an enemy is a very serious charge."_

_Gravheine backed up a few steps. She had given herself away, but she hardly cared. As she moved, the two men advanced on her, weapons drawn. Gravheine gave them no chance to seize her, however. Instead, her heart racing, she turned and ran, hating herself for leaving Atrus' body behind but knowing he wouldn't have wanted her to be captured, either. She sped through the remnants of the camp, soldiers quickly pursuing from behind and to the sides._

_A pair of them moved across her path to stop her, but she cut them down without slowing, whipping out her blades in a single fluid motion. So she was a traitor, now, too. Funny how easily her weapons had come to her, how swiftly they had cut through the bodies of her kin. How she had almost enjoyed the sound of them ripping through their flesh._

_What was happening to her?_

_Shouting, to her left. A flash of steel as another guard fell. A familiar voice. "Gravheine! Run!"_

_Kaedan swung in behind her, putting himself between her and her pursuers. Yet she barely noticed him, so caught up in grief and rage had she become. He fought, his muddied cloak swirling with his movements, giving Gravheine time to escape. Whether he lived or died, somehow Gravheine no longer cared. She was oddly numb, and only her sorrow seemed real._

_Her sorrow and her anger._

_Gravheine forgot about her dislike of fighting. Her people had betrayed her, had just let Atrus die when they could have saved him. Oh, Anila had said otherwise, that it was too late, but Gravheine knew better. She had seen Ani and the others heal seemingly mortal wounds before, so this shouldn't have been any different. But it was. They had let him die because he wasn't one of them, because he came from the old world, the one they had fled here to escape._

_And because he had dared to love one of their own._

_More troops moved to stop her, but she killed them without a thought and ran on. Soon the camp was behind her and she was rushing through the grasses. She didn't stop until the sounds of pursuit had faded and she had come well within the fringes of the woods, the very same Atrus had come from not so long ago. Gravheine kept going until her legs wouldn't carry her anymore, until her breathing came in ragged, burning gasps that seared her lungs._

_She collapsed at the edge of a brook, her knees striking the edge of a sharp rock and drawing blood. Gravheine winced but didn't cry out. The rain was still falling, a soft, steady drizzle that obscured much of her surroundings. Yet as her weapons finally tumbled to the ground, Gravheine could see all too well the blood that covered them, the red smears that streaked her trembling hands._

"_What have I done…?" she wondered aloud._

_It was clear to her now that she was an outcast, accepted neither by her people nor those of her dead lover. And at the thought of Atrus, of the life that had been taken from him—from both of them—Gravheine wept. Hunched over and ignoring the stinging in her knees, she at last gave voice to her grief. Choked, shuddering sobs escaped her lips as both rain and tears flooded her cheeks._

_From someplace in the distance, thunder rumbled ominously._

_----------_

_Kaedan stopped to catch his breath, risking another glance back at the camp as he did so. He had outrun the last of the guards, but not before taking a slash to his side. He'd fastened a makeshift bandage to the wound, and already the pain was less. Kaedan wasn't too worried about it, as he'd taken worse blows before. But this time, he couldn't go back to his people for healing. He had fought against them to protect a traitor, so now he was a traitor himself._

_Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, Kaedan crept behind a low ridge and sighed. He'd lost track of Gravheine in the confusion, but it seemed like she had done as he asked. But he hadn't liked how mad with grief she had been. Still, he had promised Atrus he would protect her, and so he would. Yet he had little idea where to find her—he had no doubt left the camp in a different direction than she had._

_At least, Kaeden reflected, there was still one promise he could keep._

_He looked at the bladestaff, still grasped in his hand. The scrollwork was dark now, but Kaedan could have sworn he'd seen it glow when Atrus had used just before he'd been killed. And it seemed as though his friend was still there, or least a part of him—Kaedan could feel something of Atrus within the weapon, a piece of himself he had left behind somehow. Perhaps in its forging, but Kaedan was no craftsman. He knew only that he'd been asked to keep the weapon safe, and so he would._

_It would no doubt be needed again one day._

_----------_

—Poor child.—

_Gravheine lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and wet. "Who is there?"_

—Someone who can help you.—

_The voice was soft, cold, yet oddly gentle. A feminine voice, ancient and old but at the same time young and vibrant. A husky murmur that was human and yet somehow not. Graveine shivered, but curiousity won out over her usual prudence. And if the voice was right, if it could help her, then she would at least listen to what it had to say. "How?"_

—By giving you the power to do what your kin would not.—

_Gravheine turned and saw a shape, black against the foliage. It might have been human, but she knew it wasn't. She instinctively backed away, but the figure made no move, and she realized it was no more solid than the mist that was even then curling around her toes in chilly tendrils. Gravheine wanted to run, but the thing's words intrigued her. And if it spoke truly, if there really was a way to bring Atrus back, to undo what should not have been done, then she had to try._

"_I do not understand," she said. "How can I bring him back? I do not even have his body anymore. My people took him from me…"_

—You need not the flesh, child. The planet will make it anew.—

"_Why do you wish to help me? I am an outcast."_

—As was I, long ago. Helping you will, in the end, help me. And so will we both live again.—

_Something about that made Gravheine uneasy, but in the midst of her sorrow, she gave it little thought. All she wanted was to be with Atrus again, to feel his arms around her and his lips upon hers as she had the other night. She would have him back, no matter what the cost. And those who had taken him from her would be punished. Rage mingled with grief inside her much like the rain blurring with the tears still rolling down her face. "What must I do?"_

—You must first be reborn. Fear not the pain, for you will come to know it well.—

_No sooner had the voice spoken than something long, sinuous, and dark suddenly slithered out from the undergrowth. Gravheine instinctively shrank back, seeing the thing for what it was. The snake was faster than she had anticipated, however, and it struck before she could even think to move away. Fangs dug into her forearm in a single blinding instant._

_Gravheine screamed._

_Fire burned beneath her skin, and pain was all she knew. Searing, agonizing pain. She twitched and spasmed, rolling in the dirt as the venom raced through her blood and the snake moved away. Gravheine groaned and whimpered, trembling uncontrollably and squeezing her eyes shut. Her corneas burned as though they'd been branded, and her scalp sizzled with feverish heat._

_At last the pain began to subside, though it did not go away entirely. Gravheine doubted it ever would. She opened her eyes slowly, lying on her back and breathing in heavy gasps, wondering how she was still alive. But in a way it did make sense, the more she thought about it. Birth was always a painful process. But what exactly had she been born as?_

_Rolling over to lie on her stomach, Gravheine pulled herself to the water's edge. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her reflection, and even distorted as it was by the ripples from the falling rain, what she saw was unmistakable. It was her, and it wasn't. Gravheine had to hold back a scream as she stared wide-eyed at her own face. Or what she could still barely recognize as her face._

_Her skin had paled, not deathly so but still light compared to how it had once been, and the long, chestnut tresses Atrus had loved were now jet black like strands of midnight silk. But it was her eyes that frightened her most, that made her gasp in disbelief. For they were no longer human. They were no longer the deep brown she remembered, but instead a cold, glittering amber. Their pupils were not round, but instead were narrow, knifelike slits._

_Gravheine's eyes were the eyes of a serpent._

_And suddenly she knew. Knew who it was that had called to her, who had changed her. Yet oddly, she found it didn't trouble her as much as she had thought it might. The one her people had labeled as the Serpent Queen had offered her what they had not—the chance to save the man she loved. And to avenge him. Gravheine would gladly take both._

_She felt power surging through her, power like nothing she had known before. Gravheine looked wonderingly at her hands, feeling the new energy coursing beneath them. Even as she watched, the bite wound on her arm healed and all but disappeared, though the faintest mark of fangs remained. So it would always be, a chilling reminder of She to whom Gravheine now belonged._

"_My Queen…" she bowed._

—There is much to be done. Gather those who call upon me, and they will follow.—

"_But it was one such as they that killed my love," Gravheine murmured._

—An unfortunate accident. But it brought you to me. And you will have him back in the fullness of time. My power is the power of life and death. Never forget that.—

"_I will not."_

—Take your vengeance, child. Bathe in the blood of your kin and be made new.—

_Gravheine grasped her two swords, almost eager to put them to work. It didn't matter who her foes were anymore. Men and women, soldiers and civilians alike would fall before her. The camp that had once been her home would be destroyed, its people killed. In her fury, Gravheine saw no other outcome, nor desired any. One day she would kill with a better weapon, but for now these plain swords would suffice. They would carry her through her initiation well enough._

"_So be it…" Gravheine smiled._

----------

The present came back in a rush.

Ellone gasped as she finally broke the surface of the water, throwing her head back and taking in great lungfuls of air. At first she wasn't sure where or when she was, so strong were the visions she had seen. But after a few disorienting moments, she was able at last to get her bearings. Something was odd, though, and it wasn't until she had swum over to the stone walk where she had originally dove in from that she realized what it was.

She could see.

Her friends had come down to the water's edge while she'd been under, and their relief on seeing her again was plainly visible on their faces. Ellone let Vincent and Cloud pull her up as Tifa quickly wrapped an old blanket around her shoulders—she'd brought with her from Barret's truck, Ellone remembered—and looked with concern at her.

"Are you alright, Elle?" she asked.

Ellone smiled at Tifa's use of her nickname and nodded. "I'm fine. And I got it."

She held out one hand, and lying upon its palm was the white materia, the pale orb she and her friends had come so far to find. Ellone's smile faded as she recalled the visions it had shown her, the memories Atrus had no doubt wanted her to see. She understood now. Her eyes wandered to the bladestaff as it lay not so far from her on the ground where she'd left it. _I'll finish it, Atrus,_ she promised. _For both of you_.

And there was something else she knew now, as well, though it didn't come as much of a surprise to her as it might have. Ellone had felt, on seeing Kaedan in those visions and in thinking about him now, an odd sense of familiarity. Maybe it was something in the face, with its faint resemblances to her own, or the similar sense of purpose that had defined who he was. But at least now, Ellone understood in part how she was able to wield the bladestaff with such skill despite her lack of training. It was in her blood. It always had been.

The blood she shared with her ancestor.

_It's his memories, his knowledge, that's guiding me, helping me to fight,_ Ellone understood. _And to honor the promise he made to his friend._ The bladestaff must have been passed down in her family line from generation to generation, and the knowledge with it, buried in the subconscious and waiting for the right time to be put to use. Ellone realized that when her parents had been killed, the Galbadian troops must have left it behind, not knowing it for what it was. And then over the years it had found its way into Balamb Garden's armory.

Ellone shook off her thoughts, aware that her friends were all looking at her and at the pale, glowing orb resting in her hand. Barret scratched his head. "So now what?"

"I'm not sure," Ellone answered.

"Then let's get back to the ship," Cloud said. "We can figure out our next move from there."

Ellone nodded, closed her hand over the white materia, and was just letting Vincent help her to her feet when she heard footsteps echoing on the stone. She turned, bending for a moment to sweep the bladestaff into her hands, and narrowed her eyes as a pair of men descended the stairs toward her and the others.

The man on the right was a lanky, unkempt fellow whose white button-down shirt and dark blue suit were wrinkled so badly Ellone didn't think any amount of ironing could save them. A black tie hung loosely from the man's collar, and his bright red hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. A steel nightstick was grasped in one hand. His light blue eyes found Ellone almost immediately and looked at her in ways she did not care for.

"He-_llo…"_ he grinned.

His partner, by contrast, was neatly attired. Though his outfit was similar—a white shirt, black tie, and navy blue business suit—it was neat and cleanly pressed, with not a button out of place. The man had no hair save for the dark, thin goatee that covered his chin and upper lip. Ellone couldn't see his eyes, though, shaded as they were by a pair of sunglasses. He clenched his gloved fingers into fists but said nothing.

Ellone was aware of Vincent edging closer to her, though his eyes never left the two newcomers. He eyed them warily. "What do you want?"

"Why, the girl, of course," the red-headed man drawled.


	20. Reversals

**Chapter 19  
Reversals**

"Another world?" Laguna blinked, scratching his head.

Edea nodded, more aware of his presence than she would have liked. But for the moment, at least, she was able to focus her attention on the things she had learned. Or rather, remembered. That mental fog that had kept her in the dark for so long was gone, and what she knew now sent icy tendrils of dread slithering down her spine. "Yes. I know how it must sound, but it's true. And I suspect that Ellone is in that world now, and has been for some time."

"Ever since the day she disappeared," Squall nodded. "The day we were attacked."

"From what Kiros was able to find, we can surmise that Gravheine sent someone or something to kill her. However, it was destroyed by Ellone's power, which must have thrown her to the other side in the process. As unusual as its activity has been of late, I can see no other explanation."

Irvine tipped back his hat. "So, like, how do we get over there?"

It was good to see him up and about again, and trying to move past the grief he no doubt still felt. Edea still struggled with it herself, but she knew she had to be strong. For those living as well as those who had been lost. She shook her head as she answered him. "We cannot. Not by any normal means. Aside from Ellone, there is only one other person left who may be able to open a way to the other world."

"Rinoa," Squall stated.

"That is correct. As a sorceress, she has that power."

Laguna frowned as he paced across the ICU in the infirmary, where everyone was gathered. "But, uh, she's still hurt really bad, isn't she? We gotta help her first, I think."

"What about Quistis and the others in Galbadia?" Xu put in.

"I am afraid there is little we can do for them at the present time," Edea sighed. "They are SeeDs, highly skilled and resourceful. They will complete their mission and find their way back to us in any way they can. For now, we have darker matters to deal with."

Squall folded his arms and leaned against the wall next to the double doors. "How do we save Rinoa? There has to be a way."

"I may be able to do it," Edea answered, "now that I know what it is we face."

"But I thought you, like, passed on all your powers to her when Ultimecia left you," Irvine said. "Least that's what I remember."

Edea nodded. "Your memory serves you well, Irvine. But you should also recall that she was not the only sorceress I have received powers from. There was another, the one whose legacy I inherited when I was a child. Ultimecia, like any sorceress, cannot pass on powers that were never her own to begin with."

"So that means…" Xu's eyes widened.

"Yes. I do still have some power as a sorceress. It is less than what it was when Ultimecia was within me, but it may be enough."

Squall straightened. "You never said anything about it before."

"It was never necessary. And until my suppressed memories returned, I did not know I could use that power to save Rinoa."

"Uh, suppressed memories?" Laguna asked. "I don't get it."

It was a strange thing, indeed, and Edea took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering. Her eyes drifted from the glass cubicle of her daughter's incubator down to the patch of floor where Mark Denham's body had lain until a short time ago, when Dr. Kadowaki and a few of her assistants had removed it. So much pain wrought, to keep from Edea the knowledge she now had. Yet she almost wished she had never remembered it, so terrible was it.

At last, Edea found the words to explain. "In the early days of the Centra, during the height of their civilization, they were ruled by a circle of sisters, the twelve most powerful sorceresses of their time. They were known as the Coven. Each was acknowledged as a descendant of Hyne, the alleged first sorceress."

"Alleged?" Squall wondered.

"There was another, though little is recorded of her. She preceded Hyne and was his—yes, Hyne was a man as some legends say, and not a woman at all—consort. At least for a time. It was Seddhira, and not Hyne, who harnessed the crystal to infuse a measure of her power into mortal women, turning those select few into sorceresses. She did this to create a link that would allow her to draw upon their life force and, in so doing, become immortal.

"She was stopped, however, by the Centra and their kin from the other world. Together, they fought Seddhira and banished her to the outer darkness, the eternal void that exists between the planet's two sides. Hyne fled, leaving a part of himself behind to make up for what Seddhira stole. But the Serpent is ever restless. She attempted many centuries later to escape her prison. The Coven managed to stop her, but not before her forces decimated the Centra and many of their kin in the other world.

"Seddhira's forces were led by a young woman, the same Gravheine that stalks us now. She fell under the Serpent's shadow and became her vessel, and only by shattering the crystal was the Coven able to defeat her. Gravheine's forces were banished, but she herself disappeared and over time was all but forgotten. To keep Seddhira from rising again, the sisters of the Coven sealed the remains of her original body and bound her spirit within them. Her prison of stone was then locked with a dark orb."

"This orb was sent to the other world and kept in an isolated temple that it might never fall into the wrong hands. Another orb was crafted to counter it, should that precaution ever fail or the planet's life ever be threatened again. As each of that Coven's sisters died, they were buried with a shard of the crystal, and the tombs were scattered across the territory of the Centra, lest they be easily discovered. The resting place of Seddhira's remains was itself buried deep beneath the earth, and only the full crystal would be able to unlock it.

"There was one final safeguard put in place. When a sorceress dies, she not only passes on her powers, she also passes on her memories, the knowledge and experiences of her life. The sisters of the Coven altered this process so that when they passed on their legacy, those memories relating to the struggle against Seddhira would be suppressed, hidden in the subconscious until they were needed. And they would only awaken if they resided within a sorceress of like mind. The sisters did not want their knowledge falling into the wrong hands."

Laguna stared at her. "Wait a sec… Centra tombs? Oh, man, I _so_ do not like this. I'll bet that's what Odine's really after!"

"The excavations?" Edea asked. "I had always felt uneasy about them, but I was never certain why until now. It is unlikely that he is acting alone, however."

"Yeah. You think what's-her-name's helpin' him out?"

Edea nodded. "Gravheine seeks them. So undoubtedly she is using Odine to find them. How many has he located, Laguna?"

"All of 'em," Laguna sighed. "He just found the last one yesterday."

"Then we're going to Esthar," Squall decided. "As soon as we save Rinoa and Ellone."

Edea was already shaking her head. "I will do what I can for Rinoa, but there may not be enough time to help Ellone unless we divide what few forces we have left to us. Laguna, perhaps you should go on ahead to Esthar with Kiros and Ward. Squall and the others can meet you there later once Ellone is safely back with us."

Laguna nodded. "Yeah, no problem. And don't worry, we'll be careful."

Though he spoke with his usual laid back drawl, Laguna couldn't keep the worry from showing in his eyes. Edea understood his concern. There was no knowing what Odine might be planning in addition to helping Gravheine wake the sleeping goddess. And as Esthar's president, Laguna would be one of Odine's prime targets. A sliver of fear worked its way into Edea's chest like a lump of ice, and she suddenly wondered if she would ever see him again.

It was an aburd thought, however, and Edea shoved it from her mind. Still, she didn't want to lose him as she had Cid. And thinking of her husband was still too painful, the thought of his loss still far too much for her to deal with right now. As was the vague, gnawing sense of guilt that swirled around inside her.

Edea had to take but a glance at Laguna to know why it was there. She had made no action, as she had told herself many times, but the mere thoughts of that possibility and the feelings that had unwittingly grown within her accused her with their very presence. Especially now, when such emotions were so starkly out of place, her sense of having betrayed Cid festered in her heart as deeply as the ache of his loss.

With a parting wave, Laguna turned, pushed open the double doors, and left. In the hall, Edea caught a brief glimpse of Raijin and Fujin standing on either side of the doorway, keeping watch should any of those creatures show up again. Though they had vanished in the shadows almost as swiftly as they had come, Edea had no doubt they would show up again. Her eyes darted up almost unconsciously to the overhead lights, which were working now but which she feared might go off again at any time.

She couldn't afford to worry about that now, however. Others needed her, and she had to do what she could for them. Edea looked at Squall. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah. You?"

"As I can be," she answered. "Come. We must save Rinoa."

----------

Vincent eyed the newcomers warily. "She's not going with you, Reno."

"Choice isn't hers, man," the slovenly Turk shrugged. "So why don't you guys just hand her over nice and quiet like?"

Cid hefted his spear. "Why don't you go fuck yourself instead?"

Typical. But it expressed Vincent's own sentiments exactly. He moved up a step, placing himself protectively between Ellone and the Turks and drawing Cerberus from its holster. He didn't bring it to bear just yet, though. It might still be possible to talk the Turks into relenting, however unlikely that might be.

Vincent stood with the others on the lowest level of the city, not far from the water's edge. Behind them, a series of pillars hopped up toward the ornately carved platform upon which Aeris had once knelt so long ago. Light still spilled down from above, and by its soft glow Vincent saw for the first time that the Turks weren't alone.

"Cloud, company," he whispered.

His friend nodded. "I see them. Could be trouble."

Descending the stairs to join Reno and Rude were two other people, a man and a woman that Vincent recognized at once. Both were Turks, their suits clean and pressed and their boots shining. Tseng and Elena. Tseng's straight, dark hair and slightly almond eyes gave away his Wutainese heritage, while Elena's blond strands hung close to her ears and her blue irises narrowed as she approached.

"Give us the girl, or we'll take her from you," she ordered.

"You can try," Tifa spat, clenching her fists.

Tseng ignored them, instead directing his attention to Ellone. "Please, miss, the President only wishes to have a word with you. That's all."

"So he sends armed thugs to get me?" she replied. "No thanks."

"It's very impo—"

"You heard her answer," Vincent eyed him coldly. "Now go."

Tseng sighed. "You leave me no choice, then."

Vincent braced himself as Tseng nodded first to Reno and Rude and then to Elena on his other side. The Turks fanned out, each one bringing up fists or a weapon. Reno flicked his nightstick to a higher setting, the sparks brighter and their popping louder than before. Tseng drew a polished steel katana from a scabbard on his back, while Elena and Rude clenched their gloved fists and fell into a ready stance.

"I'll ask you one last time," Tseng said.

Vincent whipped up Cerberus and cocked the trigger. "You're not taking her."

Tseng moved so fast Vincent barely saw him, but it was Cloud that the Turk went after. Vincent shifted his gaze at the last moment just in time to see Rude barreling straight toward him. The bald Turk lunged at him, fists flying, but Vincent stepped aside easily and backhanded him with Cerberus' barrel. Rude stumbled but stayed on his feet as out of the corner of his eye, Vincent saw Reno taking a vicious punch to the gut from Barret's metal fist and ducking under a swipe from Cid's spear while Elena launched herself at Tifa and Ellone.

"Hey, baldy!" Yuffie shouted. "Catch this!"

She threw her razor-tipped shuriken at Rude like a boomerang, and while he managed to flinch away from it, Vincent swiped his arm with his claw. Rude yelped in surprise as blood stained the blue fabric of his sleeve, and he had only had the barest of moments to react before Yuffie's foot connected with his face.

The clash of steel on steel told Vincent that Cloud and Tseng were dueling ferociously, but there was little he could do to help them. Rude had slammed to the ground momentarily but was even now picking himself back up. He touched his hand to his mouth, which was leaking blood, then looked at his torn sleeve before bringing his attention back to Vincent and Yuffie. His expression was unreadable behind his dark glasses.

"You ruined my suit," he said.

Yuffie caught her returning shuriken and smirked. "We're gonna mess you up a lot more if you don't back off!"

She jumped, spinning in midair and lashing out with a vicious roundhouse kick even as Vincent charged. Rude was ready this time, though. He caught Yuffie's leg in both hands just as it swung toward him, spun her around, and threw her out over the subterranean lake. She shrieked and flew into the water with a splash.

Rude recovered faster than Vincent had anticipated, knocking Cerberus aside and hammering him with punches. Vincent snarled, ignored the pain, and shoved a knee into Rude's gut. The other man groaned and doubled over but managed to bring his hands up just in time to catch Vincent's own as they reached for him. Vincent strained to push him back, but Rude outweighed him by at least fifty pounds of pure muscle.

Sparks flashed as Reno's nightstick clanged against Cid's spear, and Vincent and Rude both looked for just a moment to catch a glimpse of the rest of the battle. Cloud pressed Tseng heavily, two swords in hand now against Tseng's one. But the lead Turk was holding his own, a practiced fighter in his own right and blades clashed as Cloud and Tseng spun and thrust and parried, neither giving nor gaining any ground. Cloud swept his swords out low, but Tseng leapt over them and countered with a cut of his own. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, as Cloud deftly whipped up his own weapons to block Tseng's attack and kicked him away.

At the same time, Barret and Cid were tangling with Reno. Cid jabbed Reno in the ribs with the butt end of his spear just as Barret slugged him in the jaw with his metal fist. Reno tumbled backwards, his arms pinwheeling, then somehow managed to regain his balance at the last second. His lip curling, he swung his nightstick wildly, knocking the spear aside and slamming the nightstick at Barret's head. Barret caught it, however, seizing it in his steel hand and wrenching it from Reno's grasp. He shoved Reno back just as Cid caught him in the stomach with the shaft of his spear. Reno coughed and stumbled woozily.

Tifa showered Elena with a flurry of punches and kicks that sent her reeling long enough for Ellone to momentarily sweep her off her feet with her bladestaff. Elena sprang back to her feet almost at once, however, launching into swift roundhouse kick that Ellone barely managed to block. Tifa was at her side in an instant, though, grabbing Elena by the arm, leaping into the air, and slamming her to the ground, but the other woman wasn't finished yet. She got up and leapt at Tifa with fists flying and sent her staggering back a few steps. Ellone whirled around, spinning her bladestaff and smacking Elena on the side of the head, but the Turk shook it off and slammed her foot square into the middle of Ellone's chest. Gasping in pain, Ellone fell, the bladestaff clattering to the ground.

Rational thought fled Vincent's mind. All he knew was Ellone. All that mattered was Ellone. He shoved Rude aside and ran to her, hardly aware of Elena's futile attempt to block him. She went flying, thrown aside even though Vincent didn't remember doing so. Ellone was getting up even as he went to her, but before he could reach her, Tseng did.

"Too late," he said.

Shoving Cloud's attacking swords away for just a second, Tseng pulled a small vial from the inside of his coat, grabbed Ellone, and held the vial to her face, flicking the slender glass tube open with his thumb just as Rude caught up to Vincent and yanked him back. Vincent snarled, shoving his elbow into Rude's chest and hurrying toward Ellone, but he wasn't fast enough. She shrieked, her eyes widening, then they slid closed and her body sagged limply into Tseng's arms as the fumes from the vial swept over her.

"Ellone!" Vincent yelled.

Tseng darted aside, Ellone in tow, just as Cloud dove in from behind and Vincent leapt at him from the side. The lead Turk was too fast, though, and the others were swiftly retreating. Vincent whirled around to see Tseng quickly passing Ellone's unconscious body to Rude, who heaved her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and ran up the stairs as Reno and Elena brought up the rear. Vincent charged after them, his eyes blazing.

At the top of the stairs, Tseng paused and held up the vial. "Time to make our exit."

He threw it right at Vincent's feet, where it exploded in a brilliant flash of light so intense Vincent stopped so suddenly that Tifa ran right into him. He and the others slammed their eyes shut and looked away, and it wasn't until many moments later that the light finally dissipated enough for them to open them again. Vincent knew what he would see when he did, but even so, he couldn't help the low growl of rage that escaped his lips.

Tseng and the Turks were gone. And they had Ellone.

----------

Squall hovered close to Rinoa's left side, bending over for a moment to touch her cheek. It felt as though she were burning alive inside. Her skin was flushed with heat and dotted with sweat, and she trembled uncontrollably. Her right wrist was black and swollen where the snake had bitten her. Occasionally a soft moan escaped her lips, but she made no other sound.

On her other side, Matron Edea sat in a chair next to the bed and leaned close to her, one hand resting on Rinoa's forehead while the other lay over her heart. Squall didn't like how weak Rinoa's heartbeat had become. It barely registered on the cardiac monitor at all, only a few small spikes that Squall prayed would not turn into a flat line.

He let his hand slide into the dark curls of her hair. He did like what she'd done with it, though he hadn't had the chance to tell her. Squall missed her brightness and spontaneity, the warmth of her voice. His walks with Angelo had of late been more quiet than usual—normally he and Rinoa took the dog out together, usually just a quiet stroll in the early morning. It was one of the few times during the day that Squall was able to spend alone with her.

"Is there any hope?" he asked quietly.

Matron smiled gently. "There is always hope, Squall. And she is still with us."

Squall nodded, his eyes never leaving Rinoa's face even as Matron closed her eyes and began to fall into herself. The overhead lights bathed the room in reassuring brightness, chasing away all but the smallest of shadows. In that light, Squall could see that most of the wounds Rinoa had suffered in the initial explosion at the wedding were healing—Dr. Kadowaki's treatments along with a handful of potions administered periodically had worked wonders in her.

"Sorceresses can heal?" Squall wondered.

Though her eyes remained shut, Matron nodded. "Yes. We have the power to save, even apart from the magic of the guardians. A wise sorceress uses her power only to heal and to protect herself and others, as I have been teaching Rinoa to do."

"The guardians. Do you know why we can't hear them?"

"I am not certain," Matron explained, "but perhaps the flow of magic has been disrupted somehow. Guardian magic, at least. By her, I should think."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "Gravheine."

"Yes. But I do not know that it was intentional. A side effect, maybe."

"Enough about her. Tell me about Rinoa."

Matron sighed. "She lies at the brink of death, Squall. The venom is very strong, possessed of a will of its own. Our doctor's treatments are failing."

"How long?"

"Less than an hour, without further intervention," Matron answered. Her voice hardened. "But I _shall_ intervene. She will not die today, Squall."

Squall fervently hoped she was right, and as he gazed anxiously at Rinoa's features—her closed eyes, soft cheeks, the small tender lips he had kissed so many times—he realized he was holding her hand in both of his. _Stay with us, Rinoa. Stay with me. I love you._ He had never said that last to her nearly as much as he should have. Expressing his feelings was something that still came with some difficulty at times, but fortunately Rinoa was usually patient with him.

Suddenly, she lurched, spasming as though something were being torn from out of her. Squall held tight to her hand as Matron murmured soft words beneath her breath in a language he thought might have been Centran. Pale light—a milky blue-white glow that reminded Squall of the first hints of a sunrise over the ocean—seeped out from her fingers and flowed beneath Rinoa's body. Rinoa twitched and shook as though a battle were being fought within her, and perhaps there was.

Squall watched breathlessly as Matron sent more of the light into Rinoa. It was wispy, ethereal, yet somehow warm. And it slowly enveloped Rinoa's struggling form entirely. For a moment, she looked like one of the angels she was so fond of. At the same time, Matron sagged forward, sweat beading on her skin from the effort.

A blackish vapor rose from Rinoa's body and dissipated into nothingness even as the light sank into her. She gave one last, pained cry and then lay still. But her breathing was stronger, more regular, and her heart beat more surely. Her skin cooled, no longer ablaze with feverish heat, and while the dark swelling on her wrist faded and disappeared, the bite marks remained, a pair of faint scars that would never truly heal.

As Matron at last fell away, sinking with a tired but relieved sigh into her chair, Squall looked at her questioningly. "Is she alright?"

"She will recover. The poison is gone."

That was all he needed to hear. And as he looked once again at Rinoa's beautiful face, Squall squeezed her hand gently, still holding it in both of his as though he would never let go. And he didn't want to. Rinoa still lay unconscious, but now she looked peaceful, her face relaxed as though she were merely asleep.

Taking one hand away for just a moment, Squall reached into his jacket and pulled out the little box with the ring in it. Maybe this wasn't the most romantic of moments—Squall would be the first to admit how rusty he still was at that sort of thing—but right now he hardly cared. He flipped open the box with his thumb, shook the ring into his hand and stuffed the box back into his jacket pocket. Matron smiled, rose, and left.

Squall slid the ring—the slim gold band with its hand-crafted silver angel wings enfolding a glittering diamond between them—onto Rinoa's finger and took her hand in both of his once more. Now all that was left was to wait. He would wait forever if he had to, but he knew that wouldn't be necessary. He could see Rinoa stirring even now.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were the rich, gorgeous hazel Squall knew so well. Rinoa saw him almost at once, and he felt her fingers tighten around his. Oddly, he didn't know what to say. Words felt wrong, somehow, almost intrusive, and Squall found he didn't want this quiet moment to end just yet. Rinoa, as always, seemed to sense his mood, and said nothing, either, although her lips curled in a small smile when she saw him.

Then her eyes caught the glint of gold and silver on her finger. Rinoa gasped, too stunned to say anything, and let go of Squall's hand to pull her own closer so she could get a better view of the ring. Squall wondered what she would think of it, and his heart was pounding more fiercely than it ever had in battle. He didn't really think she'd say no, but he couldn't help the nervous flutter that rose in his stomach just the same. When Rinoa sniffled and she looked back up at him with tears sliding down her cheeks, Squall finally found his voice.

"Rinoa, um… want to marry me?"

----------

When Lily could see again, she realized she was standing in a palatial estate. Gloom surrounded her, held back only by the muted yellow-white glow of the chandelier overhead. Paintings and well-tended plants lined the walls of what Lily took to be a study of some kind, and on one end of the room stood a polished wood desk covered with papers. Behind it sat a woman, silver-haired and with shapely, angular features that made her look younger than the forty-odd years Lily guessed that she was.

Grasping Lily firmly by the arm, Gravheine moved across the room to stand directly before the desk and the other woman. "I have something for you, Astasia."

"Who is this?" the other woman demanded.

"She will be of use to you, more than you know. As I am certain you have already discovered, a squad of SeeDs was dispatched here to investigate the origins of the bomb which you kindly supplied me with for the attack on Garden."

Astasia nodded. "Yes, two of them are in custody. The other two we haven't apprehended yet."

"And what of the one named Dincht?" Graveheine asked.

"I don't know where he is now, but he was spotted on one of the trains bound here from Dollet. Besides, there's no need to search for him. He'll come to me."

Gravheine raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"My daughter is with him."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten. But do not let the four reunite, Astasia. They could still cause us much trouble should that happen."

Lily shivered, not knowing who this Astasia was but… had she meant Sara? Sara was her daughter? Zell's new girlfriend? Although Lily had thought she'd moved on after the breakup, she still felt an ember of jealousy spark to life at the thought of Zell and that girl together. But this wasn't the time for such musings. Lily had the uneasy feeling that Zell and the others had walked right into a trap, and so had she.

And then something else hit her, so hard that Lily found herself staring at Astasia even as a cold, hard pit opened up in her stomach. Astasia was the one behind the attack on Garden. She had given Gravheine the bomb that Mark had planted under the weight of Gravheine's thinly veiled threats. Lily wanted to throttle both women, to do _something,_ but she knew it was pointless. She wasn't any good at fighting, and she doubted she would last even five minutes against either of them. No, it wasn't for her to make them pay.

But she would try to get word to Zell or anyone she could reach.

Astasia looked at her coldly, though her question was addressed to Gravheine. "You still haven't told me why you brought this girl with you."

"Bait, Astasia. She and Dincht share a bond, one you can use."

Lily wasn't as surprised as she should have been at Gravheine's betrayal of her trust, but she still clenched her fists in outrage nonetheless. "What?"

"Don't worry," Astasia told her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Yet."

Lily backed away. "What are you going to do to Zell?"

"He and my daughter are coming, that much is certain. They mean to force me down and put Caraway back in charge of things here, but that just won't do. Especially after all the work I've done getting my forces together. With help from Gravheine, of course."

"I don't get it. Who are you?"

Astasia leaned forward over the desk, her dark green eyes narrowing. "Astasia Deling, current president of Galbadia in Caraway's absence pending investigation of corruption charges filed against him by the state."

Lily's eyes widened. "What? That's absurd!"

"Of course it is. Which is why he'll be so easily put away. All it takes is a little doubt in the minds of the populace. The truth doesn't matter."

"Wait… you said your name was Deling?"

Astasia nodded. "That's right. Vinzer Deling was my husband."

"So that's why you went after Garden…" Lily breathed. "You were after Matron Edea the whole time, weren't you? Because she was the one who killed him."

"Very good. Unfortunately, the bitch is still alive."

Gravheine's expression hardened. "Remember your place, Astasia. I warned you that taking her life would not be easy, though it serves both our ends."

"At least she lost her husband. I can live with that."

"Very well. Do what you wish with the girl. I leave her in your care. No doubt your quarry will show up in due time to claim her."

Lily swallowed hard as Gravheine faded into the shadows, the glittering amber of her eyes lingering for just a moment before disappearing along with the rest of her. She was gone, and Lily was alone with a madwoman of a different sort. Astasia looked at her and smiled in the same way a cat might grin down at a mouse caught under its paw.

"You'll be quite useful, indeed, little miss," she purred.

----------

Rufus was sitting expectantly in his wheelchair when Gravheine emerged from the shadows. The lights in the office were dimmed, their glow weak and sickly against the dark. No doubt how the woman preferred it. Rufus always did know how to treat his guests. Speaking of which, he had just come from visiting his other new arrival.

The girl was unconscious but unharmed, and though Rufus wondered how such a seemingly delicate young woman could have caused Gravheine so much trouble, he did not doubt it was true. Gravheine wouldn't have come to him had it not been so. And while she might hold up her end of the bargain, Rufus wasn't going to just hand the girl over blindly, either. He had learned long ago to always take the upper hand in negotiations.

"I've been waiting for you, Gravheine," Rufus said.

Weaving sinuously toward him, she nodded, her amber eyes glittering. "I know. You have the girl, I presume?"

"Of course. I _am_ a man of my word."

"Excellent," she nodded. "Bring her to me, and we will complete our arrangement."

Rufus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingertips together contemplatively, and narrowed his eyes. "Make me walk, first. Then you can have her."

"You dare order me?" Gravheine hissed. "I gave you my word, Rufus."

"And I trust you won't break it. Now finish what you started."

Gravhiene smiled coolly. "As you wish. But there is one other thing I must ask of you. In addition to the girl, I also require a sample of your blood."

"What?" Rufus stared at her.

"The stigma may be gone, but the cells of the calamity still sleep within you, as they do in all who bear them. I have need of them now."

Rufus shook his head. "I won't risk waking Jenova up again, Gravheine."

"Even to walk?"

"Not even for that. While I'm certain Cloud and his friends could handle her well enough, she's far more trouble than she's worth."

Gravheine leaned close, her eyes like steel. "I will have your blood, willingly or no."

A soft hiss filled the air as a reptilian form slithered out from Gravheine's robes to coil itself loosely around her arm. Rufus shivered—he hated snakes with a passion—but did not let his distaste show. The fangs hovered mere inches above his hand as the viper's cold eyes shone eagerly. Rufus swallowed and forced himself to stay still.

"Take it," he sighed, "but I can't bring you the girl if I'm dead."

"H'soth's bite is only lethal when he so chooses," Gravheine explained, trailing her fingers fondly over the scaled body of the snake. "And venomous only upon his will. It will do no lasting harm to you, Rufus. A moment's pain and it will be over."

Without any further warning, the snake bit. Rufus gritted his teeth against the pain as fangs sank into his hand, but there was nothing else, no burning of poison in his veins. Only a sharp sting like needles in his skin. He had never liked shots, either, and strangely this felt almost like one. Rufus could feel the serpent siphoning a portion of his blood.

Then it was over and the snake was gone, disappearing back into Gravheine's robes as softly and as swifly as it had appeared. Rufus took a handkerchief from the pocket of his white suit and wrapped it around his bleeding hand. He flexed it experimentally, winced at the sudden flare of pain, but noted no other injury save the bite itself.

"Be careful with those cells," he said. "Even inert, they're quite dangerous."

Gravheine nodded, her smile now almost amused. "Your concern is touching. But unnecessary. I am more familiar with the calamity than you realize."

"How is that, may I ask?" Rufus wondered.

"You may not. Now, give me your hand. The one H'soth kissed."

Rufus eyed her warily but did as she had asked. Her fingers were soft, slender, and surprisingly small as they touched his own—he realized now that, had he been standing upright, he would have been taller than her by at least a few inches. Strange, how one so tiny could seem so large and imposing and hold so much power.

Warmth flooded Rufus' body, rushing down his legs from his arm and the hand that held Gravheine's. Bone shifted, atrophied muscle swelled and regrew, and Rufus gasped as he felt strength return to him. The ever-present ache in his hips and thighs faded and disappeared, as did the stiffness in his knees and the tightness in his ankles.

Gravheine let go at last and stepped back, waiting expectantly. Gripping the arms of his wheelchair, Rufus stood. He'd been able to stand before, but only for a few moments before dizziness and the pains in his legs had forced him back into his chair. Now, however, there was nothing. It was as though Weapon's attack had never happened.

Rufus walked, hesitantly at first, then with increasing certainty with each new step. He crossed his office from the plush sofa that ran along one wall, and then he turned around and walked to the opposite side of the room where his desk was. Pushing his wheelchair out of the way, he moved around the edge of the desk—polished Wutainese oak, the best there was—and sat down in his black leather swivel chair, feeling more powerful and in control than he had in many years. He tilted his head to Gravheine appreciatively.

"I'm impressed, Gravheine. You have my thanks."

"And the girl?"

Rufus nodded. "As we agreed."

He reached for his phone and flicked on the intercom. Reno's voice came on almost at once. "You called, boss?"

"Please bring our guest to my office, Reno."

"Yes, sir," Reno replied.

He and Rude showed up no more than five minutes later with the girl, who was now awake and aware of her surroundings. Rufus stood, and when they entered, he walked over to meet them, his eyes on his guest. "Please forgive the circumstances of your arrival, miss. I was not given much choice in the matter."

"I can see that," she replied tersely, eyeing Gravheine.

"Her name's Ellen or Elaine or somethin' like that," Reno supplied. "I can't fuckin' reme— hey, boss, did you just _walk?_"

Rufus nodded. "I'm whole again."

"That was your price, wasn't it?" the girl said.

"One I paid willingly," Gravhiene murmured. "I have promises to keep, Miss Loire, and someone who wishes very much to see you again."

The girl's eyes widened. "Squall?"

"I am afraid not. But you will find out, soon enough."

"If that is all," Rufus interjected. "Reno, Rude, leave us, please."

The Turks did so, and Rufus turned to watch his two guests. They were almost exactly the same height, he realized, and both shared the same petite build, although Gravheine's robes and the shadowy aura coalescing around her made her seem larger than she was. She seized the girl by the arm and dragged her close as the darkness enveloped them both. The girl struggled to escape Gravheine's grasp but managed only a single stifled cry before the swirling blackness took her. The sound of her voice lingered in Rufus' ears, however, long after the gloom had faded into nothingness and disappeared.

It was a long time before he was able to look away.


	21. Intersection

**Chapter 20  
Intersection**

"Where is she?" Vincent demanded.

He stood with Cloud and Tifa in Rufus Shinra's spacious office, outwardly cool and collected yet swirling with rage inside. As always, Vincent could feel the presence of the inner beast within him, more so now due to his mood. Whether he was more angry at the Turks or at himself, however, he did not know.

The journey to Healin Lodge, where Rufus and the Turks were based, had been an obvious one to make and little discussion had been necessary to decide upon it. Cid had pushed the _Shera_ as fast as he could, but Reno's chopper had long since vanished over the horizon, and Ellone with it. Vincent had hoped to find her here in Healin, but once again he had been too late. She was gone. And it was all because of him.

Rufus sat comfortably behind his desk, utterly calm. "She's not here. I handed her over to Gravheine not long ago."

"_What?"_ Vincent's eyes blazed.

"We had an arrangement, you understand."

Cloud grimaced. "You gave her Ellone, but what did she give you, Rufus? Why'd you help her out and risk pissing us off?"

"For this," Rufus answered, rising to his feet.

He walked around the desk and stood before them, not a hint of regret showing in his eyes, and at first, Vincent didn't understand. But then he realized what Rufus had just done. What he shouldn't have been able to do. Vincent had noticed the wheelchair's conspicuous absence upon entering the room but hadn't understood why until now.

It was Tifa who spoke first. "You walked! Did she do that?"

"Yes," Rufus nodded. "I honestly did not want to cross you, but I'd have done anything to be whole again. My apologies for the trouble it's caused you."

"Tell us what happened to Ellone," Cloud glared.

Rufus shrugged. "I've no reason not to. It's my guess that Gravheine took her back to wherever it is she came from. She never told me where that was, though."

"Her world," Vincent mused. "We have to go there."

"How?" Tifa asked.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know."

"I think I do," Cloud said. He flipped open his phone and dialed. "Cid? Get the ship ready. We're heading back north."

Vincent looked at him blankly, but not doubting his friend was on to something. And if there was any chance it might somehow lead to getting Ellone back, Vincent would take it. Even though he'd only known her for a few days, he had gotten used to her gentle presence around him, and now it seemed almost strange to not have her near.

Tifa was looking at Cloud curiously. "Why there?"

"Just a hunch," he answered, "but I'm sure it's right. I have to try, Tif. Ellone saved you and Marlene, so I'm gonna do everything I can to return the favor."

Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, Cloud turned and headed out the door, Tifa trailing behind him. Vincent lingered a moment longer, however, waiting until his friends had stepped out and motioning to them to go on ahead. He wanted a word alone with the president. As soon as the others were out of sight, Vincent whirled around, seized Rufus by the neck with the claws of his bronze gauntlet, and slammed him against the wall.

"Pray no harm comes to Ellone," he hissed, "or you'll need more than a wheelchair to recover from what _I_ will do to you."

Vincent squeezed Rufus' neck for just a moment and then let go, deliberately dragging his claw across the front to poke through the skin and leave a tiny bead of blood behind. Rufus staggered to his feet, touching his neck gingerly and blinking as he saw his fingertip come away red. Vincent turned away, but halfway to the door he paused as Rufus spoke.

"You really care for her, don't you?" he marveled softly.

Vincent left without answering.

----------

Tying the laces of her black sneakers, Rinoa stood and figured she was as ready as she could be. Dr. Kadowaki had finally released her from the infirmary, so Rinoa had come here to the quarters she shared with Squall to prepare for the mission ahead of her and to have a moment alone before it began. She doubted she would get another for some time.

The tears had come almost before the door had finished closing, and for just a moment Rinoa had let herself go. Squall and Matron had told her about the attack. How could this have happened? Why was she still alive when so many others weren't? Guilt gnawed at her, but Rinoa fought it down. She couldn't let it overwhelm her. Still, it was so hard to believe that Selphie and Nida and dear old Cid were gone.

It was like in the vision she'd had, that terrible foreboding that had come to her just prior to the attack. Everyone around her, dying or dead, killed by the Serpent's wrath. It had already begun. But she wasn't going to let it continue. Rinoa blinked away the last of her tears and let out a slow, determined breath as her gaze tightened. She had work to do, and a friend in need.

"I'm coming, Elle," she murmured. "Just hold on."

The memories that had come to Matron had come to Rinoa as well, though it was difficult to make much sense of them. Yet there was something else, too, power she hadn't felt before. Rinoa reached up to take her Angel Wing razor wheel from the wall, then paused. No, that wasn't right. Her weapons were within, now.

Clad as usual in black and light blue, Rinoa made her way to the door. It hissed open before she got there, and she saw Squall was waiting for her on the other side. But not alone. Angelo bounded in and nearly bowled her over, still excited over her recovery. Rinoa smiled, ruffled the dog's fur, and looked up at Squall.

"I'm ready," she said.

He nodded. "Then let's go. Matron's waiting for us."

Rinoa patted Angelo once more, rose, and followed Squall through their living area to the main door of their quarters. As she and her fiancée—it was still hard to believe he had actually, finally asked her—headed outside and through the Garden's quiet halls, Rinoa snuck another glance at the ring on her finger. It was beautiful, and she loved it. And she wasn't going to let anything happen to the man who had given it to her. Or her friends.

She and Squall met Matron and Irvine at the upstairs exit which was little more than a wide balcony extending from the side of the Garden. The skies of Balamb, normally blue and cheerful, now were gray and overcast, so dark they were almost black. Rinoa shivered. She hated thunderstorms. They had always scared her half to death when she had been a little girl, and while she wasn't overly afraid now, she did feel uneasy. The sight of her friends helped somewhat, though.

Rinoa hugged Irvine tight for a moment. "I'm so sorry about Selphie. I miss her, too."

"Thanks, Rinoa. Glad to see you're back with us."

"We're gonna finish this, right?" she smiled. "For everyone we've lost."

Irvine nodded. "Yeah. You bet."

Letting go of her friend, Rinoa hugged Matron as well before stepping close to Squall again. Her hand unconsciously found his almost at once. At least he would be with her, and she with him. Rinoa wouldn't have wanted it any other way. They had faced dangers together before, and so they would again. But as long as Squall was at her side, Rinoa wouldn't be afraid.

She turned to Matron. "It's time."

"You know what you must do?" she asked gently.

"Yes. I can get the three of us there, but… I don't think I have the strength to get us back. At least not right away. It's going to take a lot out of me."

Matron didn't seem surprised. "Your power is new to you, Rinoa. So at first its use will prove difficult and tiring. But you must endure. As it was sorceress power that stopped Seddhira before, so it must do so again. That and Ellone's power together are what will end this. You have no further need of weapons, Rinoa. Your power will be your strength. Few sorceresses ever manage to tap its true potential, but it is awakening within you now. Use it well."

"I will," Rinoa promised. "Thank you, Matron."

"What do we do?" Squall asked.

Rinoa motioned to him and to Irvine. "Hold on to me, and don't let go until I tell you."

Both men did so, each taking a shoulder, and their closeness brought Rinoa comfort. She met Matron's reassuring gaze for a moment and then let her eyes slide closed as she fell into herself, feeling the fire within, the light. It welled up within her, warming her skin like the hot baths she always liked to take. Had she opened her eyes, she would have seen that she was glowing, the power radiating out from her in waves like an aura.

It coalesced into a pair of soft, feathered wings that seemed to sprout from her back in a haze of light. Normally they disappeared after a few moments, but now they did not. They were solid and yet somehow not, shimmering like a mirage as they spread out wide to envelop Rinoa and her two companions. The angel wings glowed with white light that pierced even Rinoa's closed eyelids. All she was aware of was the light and the gentle pressure of her friends' hands on her shoulders. Her own fingers reached up to clasp theirs.

She held them tight as the world spun away.

----------

Ellone knew where she was even before she and Gravheine had finished emerging from whatever shadowy rift had brought them here. The ceaseless hum of computers and equipment and the sterile, artificial quality of the air were all too familiar. It was a place she had been to once before, long ago, and one she had hoped never to see again.

"Velcome back, Ellone," a familiar voice greeted her.

She wasn't all that surprised to see Dr. Odine waiting expectantly in the midst of his lab. While most of the experiments he had done upon her when she was a child had been performed at his second research complex within the actual city of Esthar, he had brought her here to this other facility from time to time for more involved procedures.

"What's going on, Dr. Odine?" Ellone asked. "Why are you helping Gravheine?"

"To reclaim zat vich Laguna stole from me, ze power I vonce held under Sorceress Adel. And to complete my research. "

"Research on what?"

Odine smiled humorlessly. "Vy, you, of course."

Ellone's eyes widened. "No!"

She backed away, trying to tear herself away from Gravheine's grasp, but the woman's grip was like an iron vise. Ellone knew where Odine was going to take her, what he was going to do to her—her memories of this place had haunted her to this day—and her heart jackhammered in her chest even as she tried hopelessly to comprehend Odine's betrayal.

Pain suddenly shot through Ellone's chest, a flare of agony deeper than the steady ache she had become used to. She could feel it in her shoulders and down to her hips, though it throbbed worst at the site of her wound. Again the memories flashed through her mind in an instant like some hellish slideshow, but all she could do was grit her teeth against the pain.

"Vat is ze matter vith her?" Odine frowned.

Gravheine shook her head. "I am not certain. But she is yours, as promised."

"Very good," he motioned to a few other figures in lab coats that Ellone hadn't noticed before. "Take her to ze testing chamber. I vish to begin immediately."

"Wai—!" Ellone began, but she never finished.

A sharp, stinging pain suddenly erupted on the side of her neck. A needle. Odine was pulling it away from her even now. A sedative. Ellone's eyes grew heavy, but she was able to keep them open long enough to realize she was being dragged away, dragged back into the prison Uncle Laguna had fought so hard to save her from.

Ellone tried to scream, but darkness took her first.

----------

When Odine's assistants and their captive were gone, Gravheine turned her amber gaze to the little scientist. "Are your preparations complete?"

"Yes, my lady. Ve are ready to move ze sarcophagus from its resting place beneath Odin's tower to ze Sorceress Memorial."

"Very good. I will be there shortly."

Odine bowed. "As you vish. Have you ze key zat you mentioned before?"

In answer, Gravheine reached into the folds of her robes and withdrew the dark orb that was the black materia. "Of course. And the crystal?"

"See for yourself, my lady."

He motioned to the rear of the chamber, and Gravheine moved to the bank of computers that dominated that side of the room. The main viewscreen was still filled with diagrams and equations, but they weren't what drew Gravheine's attention. The nearly dozen small glass cylinders that had rested all in a row along the back wall were gone. In their place there was only one, slightly larger than its predecessors. And within it hovered the crystal.

Gravheine smiled coldly. "At last…"

She reached out, opened the cylinder, and carefully took the crystal in her hands. Its glittering facets caught and reflected the light, and while its power was not so great now as it had once been in the days of its crafting, the crystal was still potent. It was complete. So much time, so many years spent finding the lost lore that would enable her to locate the tombs and their hidden secrets. Manipulating history to bring their rediscovery about and free the dark orb from its prison once more. And to destroy the last of her people, the ones who had wounded her so deeply, who had taken everything from her.

"Ze crystal is assembled, as you can see. Ve have done it!"

"Do not celebrate yet," Gravheine warned. "This is merely a step toward our larger goal. However, it is a significant one. And I have not forgotten your help."

She slipped the crystal into her robes and sent H'soth a mental command. He slithered out obediently to wrap himself around her arm and shoulder even as she moved to a nearby table littered with vials and beakers and other assorted scientific materials. Gravheine ignored Odine's nervous twitch at H'soth's appearance and instead took a petri dish from the table and held it before her expectantly. H'soth understood at once.

Weaving down her arm until his head hovered over her hand and the dish lying open on her palm, H'soth bared his fangs and spat out the blood he had taken from Rufus Shinra. The blood tainted with the cells of the calamity. H'soth finished, flicking his forked tongue in and out and gazing at Odine with dark amusement. Though the viper couldn't express his thoughts as a human could, Gravheine could sense them well enough. She sent H'soth back into her robes and handed the petri dish to Odine.

He looked at it with uncertain fascination. "Vat is zis?"

"Blood, Odine. Tainted blood. Within it lie the cells of an ancient organism, a calamity I summoned to this planet long ago to wipe out my kin. She was only too happy to oblige. Although she is dead now, her cells still retain much of her power. Power you can use. I trust you can discover how."

Odine gazed at the blood with undisguised greed. "Ah, yes. I vill find zier secrets. Ze host creature, did it have a name?"

"Jenova."

"Excellent. I vill analyze zis and ze girl at ze same time! Zere is nothing Odine cannot do! And ven ze Garden brats come, ze vill be in for a shock."

Gravheine nodded. "Good. Be ready when I return."

As she stepped back and allowed herself to fade into the shadows, Gravheine decided she wouldn't go to the tower just yet. There was one other matter that needed tending to first. She had felt Heartilly's power wake, sensed it as it had breached the boundary. No doubt she was on the other side by now. And if Heartilly and her friends were to somehow meet up with Strife's group, that would make things difficult.

That was something Gravheine was not going to allow.

----------

Vincent stood alone on the _Shera_'s rear observation deck as the airship sped north. Through the viewports ahead of him, he could see the land unfolding below him as the _Shera_ left it behind, a vast, sprawling carpet of trees climbing the barren gray peaks of the northern mountains. A thin line of blue on the horizon was all Vincent could see of the ocean, and even that was fast slipping out of sight beneath the afternoon sky.

Yet his thoughts were far from the scenery. In his hands, Vincent held Ellone's bladestaff, the intricate scrollwork as dark and silent as his mood. Rufus' last words lingered in his mind and would not leave. Why did they disturb him so? Vincent couldn't say. Of course he cared about Ellone—she was a friend. But was that all he felt for her? Maybe. But then, why did he feel as though a part of himself were missing, a part that wouldn't return to him until she did? Why did the mere thought of Ellone make his heart beat so much faster?

"Everything okay?" a voice asked from behind him.

Vincent didn't turn. "As it can be, Tifa."

"We'll get her back," she assured him, moving to stand at his side. She looked him and smiled softly. "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

"She is my friend."

Tifa raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

Was it? Vincent sighed but didn't respond. He wasn't sure what he would say if he did. The last time he had felt anything like this, it had ended badly. He didn't want Ellone to suffer Lucrecia's fate, but neither could he ignore the strength of his feelings. And he knew damn well that Lucrecia would have wanted him to move on, to not be alone, to really live again. His friendship with Shelke over the last few years had helped, but the former Deepground agent had eventually gone her own way, although she still kept in touch when she could.

Vincent looked at the bladestaff, all he had left of Ellone. "I don't know."

"How does she make you feel?" Tifa prodded gently.

"Alive, Tifa. Human."

Tifa patted his shoulder. "Then go to her, Vincent. Tell her."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Tifa asked.

Vincent's gaze returned to the viewport and the panorama unfolding below the ship. "The beast within me. Ellone knows nothing of it, nothing of my past, of what I am. How do you think she would react, Tifa, if she found out?"

"She trusts you. I don't think that would change."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Tifa took his shoulder more firmly, turning him to face her. Her brown eyes locked onto his russet ones. "Stop hiding in your past, Vincent. I thought you got over all this years ago after that mess with the Deepground."

"So did I," Vincent agreed.

"Do you love her?" Tifa asked quietly.

Vincent pulled himself free of Tifa's grasp and looked away. "How can I? I've only known her for a matter of days."

"So? It can still be real."

"Even if that were true, Ellone may not feel as I do."

Tifa smiled wryly. "Oh, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

What did she mean by that? How could she be so sure? Vincent wanted to be reassured by her words, but doubt gnawed at him. And her question lingered in his mind. Did he love Ellone? Or was he just chasing shadows? He thought of her hair, soft and short and brown, and her eyes, gentle eyes that had looked upon him with nothing but friendship. Vincent thought of that first moment he had met her, when she had quite literally fallen into his arms. Had he known, even then? Were such things possible?

"I don't want to lose her, Tifa," Vincent murmured, "as I lost Lucrecia."

"I know. But you shouldn't let that stop you from treasuring the time you do have with her, however much or little it may be."

Vincent supposed she was right, but he still wondered how any woman could love a man like him. His eyes drifted down to his clawed gauntlet, the bronze sheath he'd worn over his left arm for so long. He rarely took it off, even to sleep—over the years he had almost forgotten it was just an ornate glove. Vincent thought of what it might be like to touch Ellone's cheek, to take her hand in his and just hold it for a while.

"Hold this for a moment," he said, handing Tifa the bladestaff.

She took it, her eyes warm as she watched Vincent take a breath and let it out in one long, slow exhalation as though expelling some inner demon. He felt that way, too, although he still wasn't certain how or if he could express to Ellone what was in his heart. But he was going to save her, that much was certain. Vincent had no doubt of that. With his good hand, he reached up to his other elbow and pulled off the bronze gauntlet.

It slid off more easily than he had expected, and beneath it his bare skin tingled. Vincent flexed the fingers of his left hand experimentally, not used to seeing them uncovered by the claw. But perhaps it was time he allowed himself to take back some of the humanity Hojo had stolen from him so long ago. Vincent reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew the sheaf of papers he had taken from Tifa's basement, the reports Dr. Gast had written and which might contain the means for finally taming the beast within him.

"Is it possible?" he wondered.

Tifa nodded confidently. "We'll find a way."

----------

Stumbling forward as though pushed in the back by some invisible hand, Squall found himself suddenly crunching through snow up to his ankles. He blinked, uncertain of his surroundings, and looked around for Rinoa and Irvine. They were both beside him, Rinoa close and Irvine on her other side. The glow surrounding Rinoa was fading fast, and she would have fallen had Squall not caught her in time.

"You okay?" he asked.

She managed a weary smile. "I'll be fine. Just… took a lot out of me, that's all…"

"So, like, where are we?" Irvine drawled.

Squall looked at his surroundings for the first time. He and the others had emerged in the mountains somewhere, fairly high up given the snow and the bitter cold. Evergreens towered overhead, their branches dusted with whiteness. The sky was sullen and gloomy, the tattered remnants of what must have been a vicious storm floating away to the south, but to the north Squall could just make out the welcoming yellow glow that could come from a town. It was far off, but not so distant as to be unreachable.

Checking to make sure his gunblade was still on his belt, Squall shrugged. "I don't have the slightest idea. But there's a town up there. Let's do some checking."

He set Rinoa on her feet and headed up the ridge, motioning for the others to follow and wishing he had thought to bring some cold weather gear. The wind nipped at his ears and fingers with sharp, hungry teeth. It had to be worse for Rinoa, though—clad in a pale blue sleeveless top and black shorts, she shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Like Squall and Irvine, she hadn't anticipated winding up in a place like this.

"It's f-f-freezing out here!" Rinoa said between chattering teeth.

Squall slowed so she could catch up to him, then slipped an arm around her shoulder. It wasn't much, but it would do until they got to the town and found some warmer clothes. She was just smiling her thanks when something sleek and gray and metal suddenly roared past overhead. Squall looked up, watching as the vessel—that had to have been what it was—sped north, fast disappearing behind the peaks of the mountains.

"The hell was that?" Irvine wondered.

Squall looked after it thoughtfully. "An airship of some kind. Rinoa?"

"Yeah, I th-think so, t-t-too."

"Whatever it is, it looks like it's in one hell of a hurry," Irvine said. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, guys, are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Squall nodded."It's as good a lead as any."

Trying as best he could to ignore the cold biting at him through the fabric of his gray t-shirt, Squall moved on, Rinoa close by his side and Irvine trailing just a little behind. Wrapped in his long brown trenchcoat and cowboy hat, Irvine was the least affected by the weather, though his breath steamed out in front him in little puffs.

Squall paused suddenly, his eyes narrowing as the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up. He looked back the way he and the others had come, but there was nothing save the trees and the snow and the occasional half-buried slab of rock. Yet even so, Squall could have sworn something was out there. He didn't know what, but his warrior's instincts told him he and the others weren't alone.

"What is it?" Rinoa asked.

Squall shook his head. "I don't know. Something's not right."

Irvine shifted his rifle into both hands and panned the area with his deep green eyes. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't see anything. But, like, I know what you mean, Squall. I'm feelin' the same thing. And I don't like it."

"Let's keep moving," Squall replied, "but stay alert."

With one last, uneasy look around, Squall sighed and went on, leading the others up the ridge to the promising golden glow of the town somewhere higher up. Smells of moss and evergreen lingered in the air, and Squall felt his legs start to ache as the slope steepened and the miles wore on. The settlement was farther away than he had at first thought. They'd get there before dusk, though, he was sure.

Squall didn't want to think about what would happen if they didn't.

----------

Sitting in sullen silence on the front porch of his house after Cloud and the others had dropped him, Layla, and Marlene off just a few minutes ago, Denzel pulled his jacket tighter around him and wondered if he'd made a mistake sneaking on board the airship. He was home, to be sure, although to tell the truth he had never considered Icicle to be home. Edge had been home, even as crowded and loud as it had become over the last few years. Denzel supposed the quiet up here was nice, but did it always have to be so cold?

"It's beautiful here," Layla said.

Denzel supposed she was right, in a way, but then he thought he would agree with her if she said day was night. Though her light brown hair was still pulled back in those two ponytails she liked to wear, Layla wasn't the little girl he'd met on the streets of Edge so long ago. Like him, she had grown up. She looked a lot more like the teenager she was without that stuffed moogle she used to carry around all the time, although she still had it back home in Cosmo Canyon. Denzel loved to tease her about it.

Then again, he often teased her about whatever he could think of. When he did, he didn't feel quite so shy around her, which was stupid because he never used to feel that way before. When had things changed? Maybe, Denzel thought, it was when she had started looking less like a kid. Layla's body possessed more curves now than he remembered, her chest no longer flat but instead adorned with the gentle bumps of her breasts, and her arms and legs were slim and shapely. Layla's lips were full and her eyes pretty, and whenever she smiled his way, Denzel felt so light and fluttery that he thought he might float like a balloon.

He shrugged and replied, his voice caught in that peculiar transition between boy and man. He hoped it would break soon. "I guess so."

"You don't like it?" Layla asked.

"Dunno. But…"

She knew. "It's about Cloud, isn't it?"

Denzel sighed. It wasn't really about Icicle, it never had been. It had always been about Cloud and that day. Although he bore no bruise, Denzel knew well enough what had happened. He didn't like to remember. Tifa had been sick from losing the second baby, and at the time Denzel hadn't known what to do. He'd been anxious about her, maybe a little too much, and had made no secret of that and of his dislike for the move here. He supposed he could understand how all that might have gotten on Cloud's nerves after a while.

Maybe it hadn't really been a hit or even a push, like Tifa and Marlene had kept telling him, but Denzel couldn't help how mad he still was at Cloud just the same. Cloud had just come back from one of his deliveries, tired as he usually was after such trips, and had gone in to check on Tifa. Denzel had followed, sullen and worried and annoyed all at once because of how bad Tifa had been feeling and because of how much he had hated this place, or had thought he hated it, anyway. He wasn't so sure anymore.

What had he said that had caused Cloud to turn on him? Denzel couldn't remember, only that one moment he had been standing just behind and to one side of Cloud and staring anxiously at the sight of Tifa lying wearily in bed. Denzel had let something slip, some frustrated comment he couldn't now recall, and Cloud had turned a little too quickly, the back of his hand flying out to connect with Denzel's arm.

It could have been an accident, he guessed, but he didn't believe it. And it hadn't even really hurt all that much. But the shock of it had silenced them both instantly. Denzel had run off before Cloud could say anything, and since that day had said only a handful of words to him. It hadn't been long after that that Denzel had heard about his friends moving to Cosmo Canyon and had asked Tifa if he could join them for a while.

Denzel nodded in answer to Layla's question. "Yeah. I just… don't know what to do."

"Give him a chance, Denzel," she urged. He loved it when she said his name. "Cloud's the closest thing you've got to a dad. You're luckier than most of us orphans, you know? I wish I had a family like yours. Don't push them away, okay?"

Layla leaned close, her hand brushing against his, and Denzel swallowed hard. He looked at her for a moment, his breath vanishing from his throat and his heart pounding as Layla smiled encouragingly at him. How in all the world could he argue with _that?_ Denzel grinned sheepishly and realized he couldn't.

"I'll try," he promised her.

----------

Checking the map in the _Shera_'s conference room for about the tenth time, Cloud grimaced and hoped he wasn't making a mistake. But if she had escaped the attack at Holzoff's place like she'd said she would, Iseldra wouldn't go far. She had nowhere else to go, really. Cloud doubted she would have stayed on the glacier for long, given how the rest of her kin had treated her before, so he guessed she would linger near the cliffs. At least he hoped so.

"Are you sure about this?" Tifa asked.

Cloud sighed. "I don't trust her any more than you do, Tif, but she's our only chance."

"What if she can't do it? What then?"

"We'll find another way," Cloud said. "I'm not giving up on Elle."

Tifa nodded. "Neither am I, but… I still remember what happened the last time we ran into that ice bitch. She nearly killed Marlene, remember?"

Cloud did, all too well. He had explained the situation and his idea to the others on the way here to Icicle, and none of them had liked it any more than Tifa. He didn't like it much, himself, but there was no other choice. Iseldra had some of Gravheine's powers—at least, Cloud hoped she still did, and that they hadn't somehow faded after she had turned on the other woman. Gravheine could travel between worlds, so it followed that Iseldra might be able to do so as well, or at least open the way for Cloud and the others.

The rest of his friends were either scattered around the ship or in town. Vincent was still keeping to himself on the observation deck, while Cid and Barret were busy in the engine room refueling and making repairs. Reeve and Cait Sith were on the bridge keeping in touch with everyone while Yuffie and Red had gone into town to get some supplies and to check up on the kids, whom Tifa had dropped off at home just a little while ago before coming back to join Cloud in the conference room.

"I remember," Cloud answered, "but I have to try."

Tifa rested a hand on his shoulder. "Alright. You know I'll always be on your side, Cloud, it's just that… I can't forget what she did."

"I know. Neither can I. But if she can help us, I'm not gonna turn away from her."

----------

On a rocky outcropping just south of Icicle Inn, Gravheine watched Leonhart and his friends hurry toward the town. Strife's airship had flown overhead not long ago, and it was likely that the two groups would meet if Gravheine didn't intervene. But she had every intention of doing so. There was no telling what damage those combined forces could do to her carefully laid plans, so delicately woven over thousands of years and now at last on the verge of fruition. Strife and Leonhart couldn't be allowed to meet and prevent her from bringing back the man she had sold her soul to save.

Gravheine reached into her robes and withdrew the black materia. She gazed at it for a moment, admiring its dark, flawless surface and the warmth with which it pulsed. Its crafting had been a necessity for her kin in locking away her Queen. It had other powers, though, ones few had ever discovered. Sephiroth had managed to unlock Meteor, the fiery death from above that had only been stopped by the planet itself.

But what would happen, Gravheine wondered with a cruel smile, if the planet were to turn on its inhabitants? Kill the very life it sustained? She had begun the process in Mideel, corrupting the lifestream, for hate and darkness were her Queen's nature. With the lifestream maddened and enraged, it would embrace Her awakening rather than stop it.

Perhaps it was time to intensify the planet's hate.

Lifting the black materia high, Gravheine tilted her head up, slid her eyes closed, and called upon the powers her Queen had given her. The planet's anger filled her, its madness howling in her ears like the wails of the damned. And from the lifestream would the damned come. The breach was wide enough now that Gravheine could summon more than just creepers. Although those would do nicely as well.

The ground trembled and shook, but this was no earthquake. Tendrils of writhing, crimson energy erupted from the earth, blasting out of the ground and echoing with the planet's fury. They writhed and twisted together into dark, feral shapes with feathered wings, and black, muscled bodies armed with claws and teeth like daggers. Snakelike eyes narrowed in hunger. It had been far too long since the nightwings had fed.

They swooped off, a dozen strong, flying straight for the town. As they did so, billowing clouds of ash erupted everywhere, and from them sprang a host of creepers, their bony exoskeletons and whiplike tails glistening. They sped off after the nightwings, roaring fiendishly. And more would follow. The lifestream—red, angry, and deadly—swept through it all, bursting out of the ground everywhere around the town and now within it as well. Gravheine opened her eyes and listened to the terrified chorus of screams.

It had begun.

----------

Only a few yards from the edge of town, Squall skidded to a halt and whipped out his gunblade. The airship he and the others had seen earlier was hovering nearby, but he couldn't worry about that now. Black shapes were everywhere, some he knew and some he didn't. But they were all bad. Of that much, Squall was certain.

"Aren't those the things that attacked Garden?" Irvine asked, bringing up his rifle.

Squall nodded. "Yeah. Come on!"

He motioned to Irvine and Rinoa, and they followed, hurry across the snow as fast as they could. Squall ducked as something red and wispy shot by his shoulder and dove into the ground. A second later, it came back out, whipping back at him almost as if it were alive. Squall rolled to the side, pulling Rinoa with him out of harm's way.

"What the hell was that?" Squall wondered.

Rinoa shook her head. "I don't know, but there are more of them. Look!"

She pointed, and Squall saw she was right. More of the tendrils were showing up everywhere, shooting up right out of the ground and twisting snakelike through the air like whips. Some of them converged and took on solid forms, more of the creatures that were attacking the town. Other tendrils attacked directly, lashing out at anyone they could reach. A young man, his eyes wide and frightened, ran down the road as fast as he could, but the red tendrils were faster. They caught him, diving ghostlike right through his body and firing out the other side.

He fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Squall ducked as one of the winged monsters swooped right over his head and whirled around, fanning its feathered wings and baring a set of huge, curved teeth. It launched itself at him in a blur of speed, but Squall was faster. He sidestepped at the last moment and cut into the thing with a vicious backhand spin, pulling the gunblade's trigger as he did so.

The thing roared, wounded but still very much alive, and turned back much faster than Squall had anticipated. It swiped at him, but he managed to recover in time and dodged the attack. The thing suddenly recoiled a second later as gunfire ripped through the air and bullets peppered its body. Irvine fired again, this time with some of his formidable pulse ammo, and bright beams of energy ripped the creature in two. It exploded into a haze of black ash and tiny red tendrils that fluttered weakly back into the ground.

"Squall!" Rinoa's panicked voice jerked him around.

She was backing away from a pair of the four-legged things, bony horrors that were crouching in preparation to leap right onto her. Squall ran in, slashing with Lionheart's blue-white steel for all he was worth, followed by Irvine and his devastating blasts. Squall caught one of the monsters in midleap, the gunblade shearing right through its chest, and Irvine disintegrated the other. But as they dissolved into ash, a third suddenly jumped at Rinoa from behind.

Squall rushed toward her, but Rinoa was faster. She whirled around and brought up her hands. Although empty, they now sizzled with white, flickering flames that she shot out at the creature. The sorceress fire engulfed it, incinerating it and leaving not even ash behind. The fire went on, blasting through one of the winged beasts and shearing the wing off another. Squall realized he had stopped and was staring with his mouth slightly open, but… he hadn't expected the power Matron had talked about to be so strong.

"Damn…" Irvine whistled.

Rinoa swept the flames in an arc all around her, searing the leapers and flyers alike, but even so, more took their place almost instantly. Leaping into the air, Squall whipped Lionhart around in a tight circle that threw a bright ring of energy out into the enemy crowd as Irvine unloaded with more of his pulse rounds. But there seemed to be no end to the creatures.

Suddenly the airship roared to life, and from its belly streaked a volley of missiles that ripped through the dark horde in an instant. Snow and dirt and ash alike flew through the air amidst blossoms of orange flame. And in their wake, several figures were running toward the town, cutting and shooting and kicking through any monsters that got in their way. The red tendrils whipped and writhed all through the air, but both Squall and his friends and the newcomers dodged them whenever they came close.

Squall might have given the newcomers little notice had his gaze not fallen on one of them at just the right moment. He ignored the blond man, who seemed to be the leader, and the woman beside him, the rifle-wielding man in the blue coat, the big black guy with the gun on his arm, and the older guy with the spear. The one Squall noticed most was the tall one in black with the red cloak and the guns in either hand. Strapped to his back was something familiar, something Squall recognized at once and which froze him in his tracks.

It was Ellone's bladestaff.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Squall ran at the other man, gunblade raised. What was he doing with Sis' weapon? How had he gotten it? Cutting through one of the flyers as he raced across the snow, Squall ignored the voices of Rinoa and Irvine shouting at him to wait. How could he? That man knew where Ellone was, or had done something to her. Something bad. How else to explain how he had the bladestaff?

The other man saw him and fired, but not at him. Ash exploded just behind Squall and to his right, and while he realized the other man had probably just saved his life, Squall couldn't get the sight of his sister's weapon strapped on the stranger's back like some grim trophy out of his mind. Slashing aside another of the leapers, Squall glared at the man and kept his weapon up as he skidded to a halt just a few yards away.

"Where is she?" Squall demanded. "What'd you do to her?"

Before the tall man could answer, Squall sensed movement to his right. He spun, his gunblade clanging against the blond man's sword. Had they summoned these things? Were they working for that snake bitch, too? But then, why had the tall one shot one of the monsters off his back? And why had they been fighting the things just as Squall and his friends were?

Questions ran through Squall's mind, but he had no time to answer. The blond man pressed him fiercely, trying not to kill him, Squall realized, but just to disarm him. The rest of his friends were busy fighting off the monsters and dodging that red stuff, whatever that was. Squall ducked and swung low, but the other man was quick, skillfully parrying the blow even as Squall dove to the side and swept the gunblade high. Again the other man reacted with the reflexes of a cat, twisting his body around to block the attack before it had even finished. Yet neither could he land any of his own, for Squall countered them just as effectively.

It wasn't until he felt something smash into his side that he at last crumpled to one knee, and as he finally loosened his grip on Lionheart and the other man lowered his blade, Squall turned his head to see the woman—a brunette in black leather with fierce eyes and gloved fists—come to stand by the blond man. She was the one who had hit him, Squall realized, grasping his side. Damn, that hurt. She must've pulled her punches, but not by much. At least she hadn't broken any ribs, although Squall had no doubt that she could have. As Rinoa and Irvine came running up, the blond man turned to Squall, his blue eyes narrow.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.


	22. Allies & Adversaries

**Part 3: Darkfall**

**Chapter 21  
Allies & Adversaries**

The lifestream writhed. Nighwings swooped low, killing at whim. Screams rose in the air. Creepers leapt upon the souls unfortunate enough to be in their path. And upon the ridge where she stood, Gravheine hissed, her lip curling. For the attack had produced exactly the opposite effect from which she had intended.

The two groups had met.

Gravheine narrowed her slitted, amber eyes. Strife, Leonhart, and their friends were stronger than she had anticipated. Far stronger. Demons hurled themselves at them only to be cut down or shot or beaten. Though more continued to take their place, there was nothing else Gravheine could summon. Not now, not while her Queen still slept.

No, Gravheine decided. She would handle them herself.

Not all at once, to be sure—that was nothing short of suicide. However, she knew a better way, one that would ensure the others wouldn't interfere. Gravheine smiled coldly, looking past the airship and the group fighting desperately within its shadow to the town just past them. She knew who dwelled there. And his children were all but defenseless. He would stop at nothing to protect them. Even if it meant giving his life to do so.

Gravheine held the black materia before her and willed the darkness to life around her. She faded into it, moving without moving, melting into the shadows and emerging a moment later in the town square. Cries of terror filled the air as creepers and nightwings tore apart their victims and crimson strands of lifestream twisted and coiled everywhere. Gravheine walked calmly through it all, knowing exactly where she was going.

Strife's home wasn't far.

----------

"The name's Squall," the man said, picking himself up. "Squall Leonhart."

"Squall?" Cloud echoed.

Why did that name strike a bell? He'd heard it before, but… where? The memory hovered just out of his mental reach like a carrot dangled before a plodding horse. But Cloud had no time to ponder that now. His home was being attacked, and the longer he stood here chatting the more likely something bad was going to happen to Denzel or Marlene if he didn't get to them quick and make sure they were alright.

Squall nodded. "Yeah. Now where's my sister?"

"Your sister?" Cloud frowned. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Tifa.

"Your friend over there's got something of hers on his back," Squall explained darkly, "and I want to know why."

Cloud followed Squall's almost accusatory gaze and saw Vincent standing nearby, his crimson cloak billowing in the wind as he reloaded his weapons and fired round after round into the enemy horde. Aside from the conspicuous absence of his bronze claw—Vincent had removed it in favor of black leather gauntlet to match the one on his right hand—there didn't seem to be anything unusual. Cid and Barret were fighting at his side, casting occasional glances back at Cloud and his new acquaintances. But it was Vincent that Squall was looking at, of that Cloud was sure. Because suddenly he knew why.

Strapped to Vincent's back was Ellone's bladestaff.

Cloud turned back to Squall, suddenly understanding. "Ellone's your sister?"

"Yeah," he nodded, tighting his grip on his odd gunsword, "and if you've done anything to hurt her, I swear…"

"Squall!" the girl next to him suddenly elbowed him in the ribs. "Be nice!"

She had dark, raven hair and hazel eyes, and her clothes were black and light blue. Shorts, a sleeveless top, and soft, ankle-length boots. Obviously neither she nor her companion—Squall, the one with the long brown hair and the scar on his head, who wore just a gray t-shirt, black leather pants, and boots—had had any idea what the climate here would be like, if they had even known where it was they would emerge. Only the cowboy, busy firing his rifle at any creepers or flyers that got close—seemed close to appropriately dressed for the weather with his long brown trenchcoat, jeans, cowboy hat, and high leather boots. His red ponytail whipped around him almost with a life of its own.

Squall winced. "Rinoa! Cut it out!"

She only stuck out her tongue at him and turned to Cloud and Tifa. "Sorry about that. He's just worried about Elle, that's all."

"It's okay," Tifa smiled. "We are, too."

"See, I told you they were friends!" Rinoa smirked at Squall.

He shrugged. "Whatever. So what happened to her? Where is she?"

Cloud shook his head. "She's gone, Squall. Back to your world somewhere. But that's all I can tell you right now. We'll explain later, but—""

"We've got to stop what's going on here," Tifa finished for him.

She cocked her head to indicate the insanity going on not far away, more concentrated in town now and less so on Cloud and his friends. He found he didn't like that odd shift in their tactics, although he couldn't have said why. Only that it made him uneasy. He had a hunch as to what, or rather who, was directing them, but where was she hiding? This madness would end with her, of that Cloud was certain.

Squall nodded. "Alright. We'll do what we ca—"

"_Cloud!"_ a shrill scream suddenly cut through the air like nails on a blackboard.

Cloud whirled to his left to see Yuffie running madly toward him and the others, her face the color of paper and her almond eyes wide. She sped so fast across the snow, swiping monsters aside with her shuriken, that she stumbled and nearly fell when she finally reached Cloud. He caught her at the last instant, however, and helped her steady herself. She was breathing heavily, more frightened than Cloud had ever seen her.

He seize her by the shoulders. "What is it, Yuffie? What's wrong?"

"She's got Denzel! That bitch with the screwy eyes! Cloud, she's waiting for you! Red and I tried to stop her but… she beat us bad…"

"Damn!" Cloud swore. Eyes blazing, he turned and raced up the slope, flipping a switch on his sword hilt and detaching a second blade as he ran. He was vaguely aware of Tifa trying to catch up to him, of his friends' voices calling to him, of Squall running after him, but he couldn't afford to wait up. Denzel and the girls needed him. Cloud skidded around a corner and hurried madly up the street, wondering just how hell had managed to come right to his front door.

Ripping through a knot of creepers and a low-flying nightwing, Cloud leapt through the clouds of ash and tiny filaments of red lifestream they left behind and raced on down the road, his legs burning with exertion. He cut through any monsters in his path without slowing, heedless of any cuts they managed to score before their demise. Cloud felt no pain, only a mounting sense of rage and violation that swirled within him like magma.

He found Gravheine right in front of his house.

She stood alone in the street, twin swords drawn, the wind whipping her robes and tossing her long, black hair around her face. She had pulled back her hood, and Cloud was surprised to see that in spite of her strange, serpentine eyes, she didn't seem any older than he was, although he would have bet she had seen more years than her youthful appearance showed.

"Where's Denzel?" Cloud demanded.

Graveheine shifted her gaze to her right—Cloud's left—and he saw. Denzel was backed up against one of the posts on the front porch, a black snake about three feet long wrapped tightly around his neck and shoulders as glistening fangs hovered close to his face but did not strike. Glittering amber eyes regarded Cloud balefully as a forked tongue flicked out at him and a soft hiss pierced the air. Marlene and Layla knelt frightfully nearby next to Red, who growled low in his throat but dared not move lest the serpent bite Denzel.

"You understand the situation," Gravheine said. Though she spoke in a cold whisper, her voice somehow carried more weight than if she had shouted. "Do you not?"

"What the hell do you want?" Cloud snarled.

She deftly spun her weapons before her. "To finish what we began at the cliffs. Our battle is not yet ended, Cloud."

"Fine by me," he spat, readying his swords.

Cloud dashed toward her, his boots crunching through the snow, and spun his weapons in a high backhand arc as he reached her. She whipped around, though, slamming her blades right up against his in a clash of steel. Cloud whipped one sword low and thrust the other right at her, but she dodged nimbly aside, spinning away from him and knocking both blades away. Cloud frowned, realizing he was going to have to change his tactics if he was to beat her. An idea began forming in his mind as he fought.

He fliched back and brought up his swords to block as Gravheine went on the offensive again with a series of brutal slashes aimed at his chest and midsection. She cut only air, though, as Cloud evaded the attack and launched one of his own, whipping his swords out and down as though to cut her open from top to bottom. She backstepped just in time to avoid it, though, swiping his weapons away with her own in an outward double slash that pushed her arms away from her body just as it did his.

Although Gravheine was the first to recover, Cloud had anticipated the opening. He spun in the opposite direction she did so that when her attack came, her swords met his. Pushing against them with every bit of strength he could muster, Cloud glared at Gravehine, his blue eyes blazing as they met her amber ones. She pushed her blades against his as well, trying to force them back, but Cloud would not yield. Gritting his teeth, he roared and shoved her back, shooting a booted foot into her stomach as he did so and following it with a swift downward slash of his righthand sword that traced a line of red across her forearm.

Gravhiene winced and jerked back, and her sword suddenly slipped from the fingers of her wounded arm and tumbled into the snow. As she regained her balance, Gravheine paused for a moment to touch her bleeding wrist. She raised her hand slowly before her face, her lip curling into a snarl as she gazed at the red wetness coating her fingertips, and glared viciously at Cloud, her slitted, serpentine eyes like chips of ice. "Bastard…"

Quickly retrieving her other sword, Gravheine flipped it in her hand so that she held it upside down, the tail of the black serpent hilt coiling upward. She brought her other sword close, aligning it with its counterpart, and in a single fluid motion spun the two blades together, hilt to hilt, sliding the tails right up against each other so they overlapped and clicked neatly into place, forming a deadly dual-edged weapon that Cloud recognized at once.

It was a bladestaff.

Cloud narrowed his eyes, bringing his own swords together and hitting a hidden switch on the hilt of the larger. The two blades locked together as one, the smaller fitting neatly against the larger to form a single massive weapon. Cloud gripped the hilt firmly in hand and rushed toward Gravheine. She held her ground, however, deftly spinning her weapon into a ready position as the scrollwork on the blades flared to life in a flash of searing, amber light. She swept the bladestaff into a tight arc as Cloud brought his sword up to meet it.

Steel clashed on steel, and again Cloud found himself shoving his weapon against hers, straining to shove her back as he had before. For just a moment, Gravheine did give way, one hand quickly dropping away from her weapon, but Cloud realized his mistake too late. Bolts of amber energy suddenly shot from her fingers and slammed into his exposed chest.

A pained grunt escaped Cloud's throat as the force of her attack hurled him away from her. He managed to get his feet under him, though, and backflipped back to a standing position just in time to see Gravheine rushing toward him, both hands once more grasping the bladestaff as she spun it toward him in a vicious downward slash that looked to rip open his midsection. Cloud quickly whipped his sword around and knocked her weapon away at the last instant, and before she could recover, he called upon one of the materia in his wrist guards.

_Two can play this game, _he thought.

An explosion of green flame suddenly split through the air, slamming squarely into Gravheine and hurling her across the snow like a rag doll. She hit the ground with grunt of pain and quickly rolled to one side as Cloud closed in. He leapt up into the air and brought his sword down at her in a massive overhead chop that would have cloven her in two had she not managed to block it with her bladestaff even as she lay sprawled on her back.

Cloud shoved his weapon down against Gravheine's, forcing all of his weight into it, but while she couldn't shove him off, neither did she allow him to disarm her. Though he knew it was risky, Cloud dove into himself enough to again use his materia. But this time there was no supernova of green fire. The materia flickered fitfully and went dark as just a few tiny emerald flames erupted briefly into life, singeing Gravhiene but little more, and disappeared.

A booted foot suddenly slammed squarely into Cloud's chest and sent him tumbling onto the ground. The force of the impact jarred his sword loose from his hands, but even as he reached for it, Gravheine sprang to her feet and kicked it away. More amber energy shot from her hands, a flurry of sizzling bolts that ripped into the side of Cloud's face and neck as he dove for his sword. Pain blazed through him, but he ignored it, grabbed his weapon, and twisted around just in time to knock Gravheine's bladestaff away.

"Will you not die?" she grimaced.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "Not today, bitch."

"That remaines to be se—"

Suddenly a lean, black and gray form leapt in from Cloud's right and lashed out with a blade of glowing, blue-white steel. Gravheine's slitted eyes widened as she tried in vain to block, but just as the sword made contact with her bladestaff, there was a sudden jerk and a muffled explosion of gunfire. Gravheine went flying back and slammed painfully to the ground. She groaned and rose uncertainly to her feet, glaring scathingly as the newcomer gazed darkly at her with chilly, blue-grey eyes and brandished his weapon.

"You didn't invite me to the party," Squall quipped, "so I crashed it."

Cloud was just starting to get up when he felt a strong, familiar hand take his own and pull him to his feet. He nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," Tifa said.

Her eyes slid inevitably to the house and hardened when they saw the serpent coiled around Denzel. She started to take a step toward him, but Cloud put an arm on her shoulder and shook his head. The only way to end this was to get Gravheine to release him, however unlikely that might be. Tifa seemed to understand, though, and nodded as Cid and the others came into view, still fighting off the monsters swarming through town. They seemed to be dwindling, though, and the hellishly twisted lifestream subsiding—fewer of the tendrils shot through the streets or came together to form creepers or nightwings. And Cloud thought he knew why.

"Call them off," he told Gravheine. "And your pet."

"You are in no position to give orders," she countered, her eyes darting to Denzel. "I could kill him with a thought."

Tifa clenched her fists. "Coward. Let him go!"

"Unless you're thinking of taking us all on?" Squall added.

Gravhine scoffed. "Together you could overcome me, yes, but I would certainly make it costly for you before I fell. However, I am no fool."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cloud demanded.

Her answer came in an instant as her bladestaff suddenly flared with amber light and she darted over to the porch in less than a heartbeat. Cloud rushed to stop her, with Tifa and Squall on either side, but he wasn't fast enough. Gravhine reached Denzel's side, smiled cruelly at him, and seized him by the arm as her snake slithered back into her robes. A dark rift was just beginning to swirl around her when a massive body of red fur and claws suddenly leapt onto her from behind and sharp teeth sank into her shoulder.

"Denzel, run!" Red roared.

He did so, straight into Tifa's arms. Cloud pushed the two of them behind him as he and Squall closed the gap between themselves and Gravheine. She staggered and snarled, reached up with one arm, and shot a flurry of amber bolts into Red's side. He fell to the ground, his fur singed, and tried to leap on her again, but this time she caught him in the chest and he flew out into the snow. Cloud answered with his sword, yelling for Marlene and Layla to run, and Squall rushed in to join him, his gunblade primed.

Gravheine hurled a wide arc of amber energy at them both, blocking Cloud's attack as she did so. He staggered but kept his feet, as did Squall, who shrugged off the bolts and slammed his gunblade at her. She narrowed her eyes, ducking at the last moment, and Cloud was cutting at her himself when she suddenly grabbed Layla by the collar just as she was about to run off the porch after Marlene and Denzel.

"_Help!"_ Layla screamed.

Gravhiene swung her around, using her as a human shield against Cloud and Squall. "The day is yours. But victory is no—"

"Wait, Denzel!" Tifa yelled, but too late.

He dashed in and slammed into Gravheine's side with a yell, jarring loose her grip on Layla. Gravhiene snarled and kicked him away, following it with a backhand slash from her bladestaff as Cloud closed in. He slammed his sword into it at the last moment, knocking it off target, but he was still a second too late as the bladestaff sliced across Denzel's arm.

Cloud roared and hammered at Gravhiene once again even as Squall's gunblade came down against Gravheine's shoulder. Again there was the ear-popping burst of gunfire, and Gravheine stumbled back. Cloud slammed her against the wall next to the front door of the house, but she only hissed at him and faded into the shadows swirling around her. Cloud reached out to grab her but caught only air.

She was gone.

----------

Denzel lay panting against the porch railing, grimacing as he held his bleeding arm. Tifa was there, frantically calling his name. And so was Marlene. And Layla. Cloud gently pushed them aside to kneel beside him as Tifa rushed into the house to get the first aid kit that Denzel knew she always kept around. She reappearead a moment later, handing Cloud a potion while bending over next to Denzel with a roll of bandages.

"Hold still, okay?" she said as she took his arm.

Denzel winced. "It hurts…"

"I know, hon. But you're gonna be alright, I promise."

"Here," Cloud handed him the potion. "Drink this down, the whole thing. That should help with the worst of it."

Denzel did so. It tasted almost like sweetened water. The pain did lessen, though, but didn't go away completely. He still felt it as a dull throbbing along the inside of his forearm, where he'd been cut. The bandages Tifa was fastening on were already tuning red, but Denzel could feel the bleeding slow. Still, it was going to be a while before it healed completely.

"What were you thinking?" Tifa scolded him. "That was very brave, Denzel, but very stupid as well. You couldn've been killed!"

Denzel sighed. "Yeah. I just…"

"Don't worry about it," Cloud said. "It's over now."

He held out his hand as Tifa finished putting on the bandages. Denzel hesitated, suddenly ashamed. Not of what he had done today, but of his feelings. Of the anger that had pushed him and Cloud apart, the cold silence with which he had treated him for so long. What had happened on that day so many months ago didn't matter now. Cloud had never meant to hurt him. How could he have possibly thought otherwise?

Taking Cloud's hand, Denzel rose to his feet and threw his arms around him. "Sorry, Cloud… I mean, for everything…"

"So am I, Denzel," Cloud hugged him tight. "So am I…"

At last, he let go, though his hands lingered on Denzel's shoulders for a moment. Denzel smiled hesitantly, and Cloud responded with a nod and a small smile of his own. Tifa's was bigger, although her eyes weren't quite dry. And as Marlene flew into his arms and scolded him again and again for being such a crazy idiot, Denzel laughed and realized that Layla was right. He belonged with his family.

Then someone else was taking Marlene's place. Layla. She hugged him so tightly he thought he would snap like a dry twig, and before Denzel even realized what she was doing, Layla reached up and kissed him full on the mouth. His eyes widened as his heart hammered against his ribs and his skin tingled with a rush of heat, and so many butterflies flew through his stomach at that moment that he could've sworn he was floating. Shyly, Denzel returned Layla's kiss, forgetting for the moment the presence of his family and friends nearby.

When he finally pulled away, she giggled. "Wow…"

Denzel blushed but couldn't find any words to say. But he didn't move away from her, either. He liked having Layla close to him. Was he in love? Denzel thought so, and he decided it was great. As Layla finally loosened her deathgrip on him and contented herself with just having an arm around his waist, Denzel risked an embarassed glance at the others.

Fortunately, Marlene kept her mouth shut, although Denzel knew she was going to tease him mercilessly later. Tifa smiled at him before stepping off the porch to tend to Red, who looked a little ruffled but otherwise not too badly hurt. Denzel was glad for that. During his time in Cosmo Canyon, he and Red had often spent nights sitting outside under the stars and talking. Denzel was going to miss those times, but he knew Red would understand why he had to come home for good. And he _was_ home. Denzel had no doubt of that.

No doubt at all.

----------

On the rocky slopes overlooking the snowboarding trails just north of town, Gravheine emerged from the darkness and nearly swooned. Pain hit her like a sledgehammer as she struggled to regain her balance beneath the shadows of a towering pine tree coated with snow. She had made the jump too quickly, not concentrated deeply enough, and her wounds were deeper than she had thought. It would take time for them to heal.

Gravheine leaned against the evergreen's trunk and looked at her arm. The slash had closed, but the drying blood had turned her sleeve into a congealed mass of flesh and cloth. Her shoulder, where the panther had bitten her, was in no better condition—blood seeped out from a pair of deep punctures that marked where the thing's fangs had sunk almost to the bone. The scratches its claws had left in her back stung like wasps, and her ribs ached from being thrown across the ground by Strife's green fireball and then again by Leonhart's explosive gunblade.

Although her unnatural vitality was one of the powers her Queen had granted her, Gravheine was far from immortal. She would recover—her injuries were slowly closing themselves even now—but the pain would linger for a long time. A potent reminder of her folly. Gravheine would heed its message and be more careful in the future.

Detaching the two serpentsteels that together formed her bladestaff, Gravheine slid them into the scabbards that hung at either hip from her belt. Spasms of pain shot up her wounded arm with every motion, but she ignored them, instead closing her eyes for a moment and letting a long, deep breath flow from her lips.

The sound of a jet engine roaring overhead drew Gravheine's eyes open again, and she looked up to see an airship streaking northward. Strife, Leonhart, and their companions. They were looking for Iseldra's aid in reaching the other world. Gravheine had already deduced that much. And while she could have stepped into the shadows again and reached the cliffs ahead of them, Gravheine had no desire for a second confrontation this day. And she had more pressing matters to attend to, her Queen's tomb yet to unseal.

Gravheine straightened and took a few steps away from the tree to give herself some space. She then fell into herself again, calling upon her powers more carefully this time. Darkness enveloped her, embraced her like a child in the womb, and she welcomed the soothing warmth of its touch. The world faded around her first into shades of gray, and then into nothing at all as Gravheine's stomach turned and the familiar sensation of falling overtook her.

----------

"I'll do as you ask," Iseldra said. "But… would you do something for me as well?"

It hadn't taken long for them to find her, but then she had been expecting Cloud and his friends to return soon. So she had lingered in the area around the climber's cabin and tended the injuries she had sustained when Gravheine's creepers had torn the place apart several nights ago. Fortunately, Iseldra hadn't been hurt too badly in the attack, and most of the cuts and scratches were gone or nearly so.

Her long blue curls hung loosely over her bare shoulders as she stood among the scattered boulders and spindly pines scattered at the base of Gaia's Cliff. Though clad only in a tight-fitting azure leotard, Iseldra paid little heed to the chill in the air. She was a frost maiden—a Snow, as humans called her kind—and thrived in such environments. With her fair, pale blue skin, shapely figure, and scarlet eyes, Iseldra was a wintry siren capable of enthralling almost any man she wanted. Yet only one thing now mattered to her.

Cloud eyed her warily. "What do you mean?"

"My son. Even with what power I have, I can't save him alone. I know I'm in no position to ask it of you, but…"

As she spoke, Iseldra let her gaze wander over the small group gathered before her within the shadow of a vast, sleek airship. Cloud, the blond warrior with the huge sword on his back, stood almost directly in front of her, and to his right the young brunette who was his mate—Tifa was her name—glared darkly at her with brown, suspicious eyes. Iseldra didn't blame her. She had only to close her eyes to see that horrible moment again, the curved dagger flying from her hands and burying itself in the little girl's back.

It hadn't been the first time Iseldra's temper had gotten the better of her, truth be told. But she would have done anything to take that one wretched moment back. Maybe that was why she had agreed to help Cloud and the others. The only solace Iseldra had been able to take was that the girl had survived. She didn't like to think what would have happened if she hadn't.

"It's not going to be easy," Cloud sighed.

He glanced around at his companions, and Iseldra followed his gaze. On one side of him was Tifa, and at the other stood one of the newcomers, a brown-haired man in black and gray. Squall, wasn't it? Another woman, Rinoa, kept close to him, and the third one—the tall cowboy—wasn't far off. The black giant, the pilot, the ninja girl, the panther, and the dark gunman all waited nearby. But the one Iseldra's eyes kept returning to, for no reason she could understand, was the bearded man in the dark blue overcoat.

What was his name? The introductions had been brief and to the point, and Iseldra hadn't caught all of them. But then she remembered. Reeve. His odd little cat sat on his shoulder, but Iseldra paid it no mind. Reeve Tuesti, that was the man's name. He was looking at her with something she didn't quite recognize at first, but it wasn't with the distrust she saw in everyone else's faces. After a moment, Iseldra recognized what it was.

Understanding. He _knew._ Somehow, he knew.

Iseldra blinked and looked away, turning her attention back to Cloud. "I'm not asking you all to come. Just a few of you, if you're willing."

Her eyes fell on Reeve again, silently asking the unspoken question. What would his answer be? And why did it even matter? But it did, oddly enough. Something about him, about the calmness in his eyes and the absence of any of the animosity the others made no effort to hide, reassured her, made her feel not so alone. Iseldra doubted he would come, however. She doubted any of them would come. They had no reason to. But still, she hoped.

"I"ll go," Reeve said quietly.

Cloud looked at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I know she's not exactly a friend, but… it's the right thing to do. Cait and I will go with Iseldra, Cloud. You and the others take care of the rest."

"I will accompany you, Reeve," the panther added.

He nodded. "Thanks."

"Our odds will be better with three of us rather than two," Red went on. "And with someone to watch your back."

Iseldra tilted her head to both of them. "Thank you, both of you."

"You're welcome," Reeve replied gently.

For just a moment, his eyes lingered on hers, and Iseldra found it difficult to look away. And she wondered if she really wanted to. They were nice eyes, dark brown and not unkind. Had anyone ever looked at her that way before? Had anyone ever seen her as anything but a monster, a vicious creature to be feared and despised? Iseldra knew they hadn't. No one had. Until now, that was. Why did he? And why did it make her so uncomfortable?

Cloud's voice drew her from her thoughts. "That's settled, then. Now what about sending the rest of us to the other world?"

"I can do that," Iseldra answered, "but not from here."

"I don't understand."

Iseldra pointed to the vessel behind him. "You can fly there in your ship. Once it's properly modified, that is."

The power Gravheine had given her so many nights ago was slowly dissipating, but enough of it still remained that Iseldra was certain she could do as Cloud had asked. It wouldn't be easy, and it would take some time, but she owed him, owed all of them. And perhaps more importantly, she owed it to herself. If ever she had a chance to be more than just another of her cruel sisters, to leave that life that she had grown so weary of, this was it.

"What the fuck you gonna do to my ship?" Cid, the pilot, barked.

"I need to infuse your engines with some of the power I have left. There isn't much time—I can feel it fading even now."

Cloud ignored the pilot's scowl. "Then let's get started."

He started to turn away to head into the ship, but Iseldra didn't move just yet. Her eyes found one of the newcomers, instead—Rinoa. There was power in her, as well, though of a different sort. But it was strong, very much so. The girl noticed her staring and shifted uncomfortably before finally addressing her. "Yes? Was there something you wanted?"

"I can feel power inside you," Iseldra said.

"How can you know that?" the man beside Rinoa asked suspiciously.

Iseldra shrugged. "I'm not exactly human—Squall, isn't it? My kind are highly sensitive to the ways of the planet, and we've learned to sense such things in others."

"Why does it interest you?" Rinoa wondered.

"Because," Iseldra explained, "if we work together, we can finish this task more quickly. And you'll have a better chance of finding your friend."

The girl considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

----------

Squall leaned against the bulkhead on the _Shera_'s bridge some two hours later as Cid made a few final adjustments at the helm. It was almost time. Rinoa hadn't come up from the engine room yet—she had to stay there, according the ice witch, to monitor the flow of the power being directed into them and keep it at certain levels in order to make the jump. It could be dangerous, given the possibility of an overload, but Squall trusted Rinoa to do what she could even though he knew little of her new abilities.

A look around the bridge showed that Barret and Irvine had come back on board. Yuffie had as well, but had disappeared soon after to join Rinoa in the engine room. Cloud and Tifa were still outside, however, having a few final words with Red, Reeve, and that odd little cat of his, before parting ways. Squall wasn't sure how smart it was to help the witch with her own problems given her history with Cloud and the others, but it hadn't been his business. But so far, at least, the witch had kept her word.

The doors at the back of the bridge hissed open, and Cloud and Tifa stepped inside. Tifa's frown spoke volumes, but Squall hadn't needed to see it to know what was going on. On the way up here, she and Cloud had told him, Rinoa, and Irvine all about what had happened ever since Ellone had wound up in this place, including their first encounter with the ice witch that fateful night. Still, it was between Tifa and Cloud to sort out. Squall put it aside as his thoughts slid inevitably back toward Sis, the whole reason he was here.

Kidnapped by—what had Cloud called them? Turks? Yeah, that was it—and then handed over to Gravheine like some bauble to be haggled over. The very thought of it made Squall seethe. And the fact that he had gotten so close to nabbing Gravheine today and making her end this, but she had gotten away. She was going to answer for the things she had done, both to Squall and his friends and to Cloud and his group. But what had she done with Ellone? Where was she now? Who would Gravheine have taken her to?

Odine.

It hit him like a sledgehammer as everything suddenly fell into place. He knew exactly why the little bastard would have wanted her—those goddamn experiments he had never gotten to finish thanks to Laguna. And maybe something more, now. He had found all the tombs, and likely the burial chamber as well. No doubt he'd want Elle and maybe Laguna as well to watch him gloat in his moment of glory. Was Laguna walking into a trap? Squall wouldn't have put it past Odine and Gravheine to arrange one.

"Damn.." Squall muttered.

Irvine looked at him. "Hmm?"

"Just had a thought. We're going to Esthar soon as we get back. Elle's there, I'm sure of it. That bitch Gravheine gave her to Odine."

"We'll get her back, Squall. And squash the little freak like a bug."

Squall's eyes hardened. "Believe it."

"Just save some for us," Cloud added. He turned to the helm. "Cid, we ready?"

"Whenever you give the fuckin' word, Spike," he growled.

Cloud nodded. "It's given."

"Then hold onto your goddamn drawers, everyone, and don't piss in 'em, 'cause this is gonna be one hell of a bumpy ride!"

The crusty pilot pulled a few levers, and Squall felt as much as heard the ship's engines roar to life. He was no mechanic, but he could've sworn they sounded slightly different than before, although he couldn't say quite how. Nevertheless, it was powerful, and within minutes the ground was falling away as the _Shera_ soared into the sky.

Squall glanced for a moment out a nearby window to see Reeve and his little group standing amidst the snow and rocks with the ice witch and watching as the ship ascended. Soon, though, the four figures were little more than tiny dots against the whiteness, and before long Squall couldn't see them at all, couldn't see anything below the heavy blanket of clouds into which the ship had flown. They were gone.

After a little while, Cid leveled off the _Shera_'s ascent, and Squall felt gravity's pull lessen somewhat as the deck leaned back to a horizontal position from the angle at which it had been. It was a little rougher flight than what it would have been in the _Ragnarok_—at the thought of his own ship, Squall involuntarily thought of Selphie. She had loved piloting that ship, often calling it "Raggy" or "Rags" for short. It wouldn't be the same without her.

Cid flicked on the intercom to the engine room. "We all fuckin' ready down there?"

"Yeah," Rinoa's voice answered. "It's all set."

Squall gripped the bulkhead more tightly as Cid flipped open a new panel on the helm and punched in a few commands. As the panel lit up in flickers of blue and white, he wrapped his gloved hand around a slim, silver lever and took a long, slow drag from his cigarette before tucking it behind his ear under the band of his flight goggles. He looked up at Cloud, waiting for confirmation. Cloud nodded.

Cid pulled the lever. "Here we fuckin' go!"

The ship, which had already been cruising along at a fairly swift pace across the sullen gray sky, suddenly lurched forward as though shot from a cannon. Squall stumbled but managed to keep his feet, as did everyone else, but he didn't let go of the bulkhead. The deck vibrated beneath his feet as turbulence rougher than any he had yet experienced suddenly rocked the ship on all sides. It was like flying through a wind tunnel.

Squall gripped the bulkhead more tightly as an odd sensation stole over him, making his body feel light, almost elastic. The ship seemed almost to stretch, as though reality itself were bending, and the forward observation windows, where Cloud and Tifa clutched the rail, seemed miles away rather than just a few feet. Between Irvine and Barret, the spherical map grid within the navidome in the middle of the bridge spun wildly like a child's top.

A blinding haze of white light suddenly shot through the bridge from front to back, so bright that Squall had to throw up one arm to keep it from blinding him, and then he was flying as the engines roared and the ship abruptly snapped back to its original speed. Squall crashed to the deck only inches from the plate glass observation windows at the front of the bridge. He groaned and looked up and behind him to see Cloud's hand on his ankle. With his other hand, Cloud had jabbed his sword into a nearby bulkhead to stop his own momentum.

"Thanks…" Squall managed.

Cloud helped him to his feet. "Don't mention it."

"Did we make it?" Tifa asked. She had caught herself on the deck, her arms and legs spread out and gripping the smooth metal as only a skilled martial artist could. With the ship back at its normal velocity, she sprang up as nimbly as a cat, stood easily, and reached down to help Barret and Irvine haul themselves up.

Squall looked out the forward windows, hoping to see a familiar landmark. At first, there was nothing, only clouds. But then they parted, and beneath the airship, Squall saw the undulating blue vastness of the ocean. And stretching across it almost at the edge of sight, a line of gray steel and concrete that could only be the old train bridge that ran for untold miles across the sea from Galbadia to Esthar. Squall couldn't quite tell how far out he and the others were, but at the sight of the bridge, he let out a sigh of relief.

Turning to the others, he nodded. "We're here."


	23. Attraction

**Chapter 22  
Attraction**

"Well, Instructor?" Seifer grimaced. "Any bright ideas?"

Quistis had a few, but none that would get them out of their current predicament. Or the holding cell into which the Galbadian troops had put them. But where were they? Quistis tried to remember what had happened after the soldiers had come up behind them on the beach in Dollet. She and Seifer had no more risen to their feet when a pair of rifle barrels had come crashing down on their heads.

Blackness had quickly overtaken them, though occasionally Quistis had drifted near enough to consciousness that she had felt the ground—no, the _floor_—vibrating beneath her. A train? Maybe. She wasn't sure. Quistis had finally awoken a little while ago in this dank little cell, her hands chained together in iron cuffs. Across from her, Seifer leaned against the far wall, his own hands similarly bound. His gunblade was gone, as was Quistis' whip.

She sighed. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"Not sure exactly, but… looks like it might be under Deling City. When I was leading the Galbadians, I found out that old Vinzer Deling had a bunch of cells built into the city's sewer system. For folks he didn't want to bother sending to D-District."

"I didn't see any cells when I was down there during the parade," Quistis frowned.

Seifer grunted. "That was the point, Instructor. Nobody was supposed to know they were there. But Matron found out from Vinzer, and she told me."

"So you think that's where we are?"

"It's as good a guess as any. Can you even see the door?"

Quistis couldn't. The room might as well have been just four blank stone walls. Not that she would have been able to see a door anyway, had one been there. It was as black as pitch in here. Quistis couldn't even see her hand in front of her face, and only the sound of Seifer's breathing and his voice told her she wasn't alone. She was glad for that, otherwise she thought she'd have gone mad. Although she had been afraid of the dark as a child, she had eventually outgrown it. Still, every now and then a faint knot of dread would rise in her stomach if the shadows started closing in and drowning out the light.

"I can't see it, Seifer. Can you?"

"Are you kidding? I can't see shit in here."

Quistis leaned back against the wall in defeat. "Then how do we get out of here?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Seifer quipped.

"Well, you're a lot of help."

Though she couldn't see it, Quistis was sure that damnable smirk was on Seifer's face. "Always a pleasure, Instructor."

Quistis slid her eyes closed for a moment, wondering how long she and Seifer had been stuck here and hoping that Zell and Sara had had better luck. Had they even escaped from the ship before it had gone down? She believed they had, but there was no way to know for sure, though, not in this place. Time didn't seem to exist here. One moment was just the same as the next, a monotonous present that seemed to have no end. But then suddenly an idea struck her as lightning stabbed through her brain.

"Seifer," she asked, her eyes flying open, "can you pick a lock?"

"Yeah, why?"

She scooted toward the sound of his voice. "I have two bobby pins in my hair, one on either side. You think you can use them to open our cuffs?"

"Maybe, but what for?" Seifer asked. "We'd still be stuck in here."

"However well hidden the door is, there's got to be a seam or something where it meets the wall. If we find it, maybe we can force it open."

His paused for a moment. "You might actually be on to something, Instructor."

"Thanks. Now, I can't reach the pins myself, so you'll have to take them out, Seifer. Just stay where you are, I'll come to you."

Quistis slid across the dank stone floor as best she could, as the ceiling wasn't high enough for her to stand in this cramped place. After a moment, she bumped into Seifer's knee and turned around with her back to him. She didn't think it would be hard for him to find the pins—she had slid them into her hair, one at either temple, to keep her blond locks swept back and out of her face now that she wore it down.

Her scalp tingled as Seifer's fingertips brushed against it. "Closer, Instructor. I can barely reach you. Don't worry, I won't bite."

"Who's worried?" she countered.

She scooted closer to him until she felt her back settle against his chest. It wasn't so bad, really, though she wondered why she felt that way. But then, she couldn't recall ever being in a man's arms before. Still, did it have to be Seifer? Quistis wanted to cringe, but at the same time, she found her heart beating just a little faster as his fingers slid through her hair again to find those elusive pins. Was she going crazy?

"Seifer," she said, a thought occurring to her.

His fingers paused. "Yeah?"

"I never thanked you for saving my life. Back on the ship, I mean. So, um… thanks."

"Don't mention it, Instructor. Just doing my job."

Quistis snickered. Of course he was. But need he be so formal? "You know, Seifer, it's not like we're in class or something. You can call me by my name."

He chuckled. "Yeah, sorry. Old habits, you know… Quistis."

"Have you found those pins yet?" she asked, trying to ignore the flutter that had risen in her stomach as he had said her name.

"Got 'em. Turn around and I'll open your cuffs."

Strong fingers unfastened the two bobby pins, and Quistis felt her hair tumble loosely around her face as Seifer withdrew his hands from her temples. She turned around to face him, her scalp still tingling a little where he had touched it, and held out her cuffed hands. There was a slight sensation of pressure as she felt Seifer poking at the lock with the pins.

Quistis frowned. "How are you doing this?"

"Just feeling my away around, really," Seifer answered. "Even if we did have a light in here, it wouldn't help all that much."

"I see. Any luck?"

Seifer grunted. "I'm gettin' there, Quistis. Just gimme a minute."

"Alright," she replied.

It was actually a little longer than that before Quistis heard a soft click and felt the cuffs loosen around her wrists. She waited patiently as Seifer flipped open the lock, took off the cuffs, and tossed them aside where they clattered to the stone floor. Quistis rubbed her wrists for a minute before taking the pins back from Seifer.

"Thanks. But how do I undo yours?"

"I'll talk you through it," Seifer said. "Just do what I tell you."

Quistis nodded, an amused smirk crossing her face. "Fair enough. But don't get used to the idea of ordering me around. I'm still in charge here."

"Whatever you say, oh mighty leader," Seifer quipped.

Ignoring him, Quistis grasped the bobby pins in her hands as Seifer instructed, and though it was slow going, she worked bit by bit on picking the lock on his cuffs. It wasn't easy, especially in the pitch dark, and more than once her grip slipped and she had to start over. How long it took, she didn't know—it might have been hours or minutes—and she was afraid that at any moment she might drop one of the pins and not be able to find it again. Not to mention the almost suffocating sensation of the darkness closing in all around her.

Quistis grimaced. "Damn. I can't get this thing open…"

"Take it easy," Seifer said, his voice unexpectedly calm. "You're almost there, Quistis. Just twist it around 'till it catches, got it?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just wish I had some light, that's all."

Seifer shifted a little closer to her. "You're doin' fine. Relax, alright?"

"Okay, I think I've got it," she agreed.

She was right. Following Seifer's instructions, Quistis twisted one pin while holding the other in place. The first pin caught on the latch mechanism, and all it took was a slight tug to unfasten it. The lock came open with a soft click, and after taking the pins out and slipping them into her pocket, Quistis reached out, took off Seifer's cuffs, and let them fall to the floor. She was just taking his wrists and rubbing the circulation back into them when she froze, suddenly realizing what she had just done. Utterly mortified, Quistis found herself immensely grateful for the concealing blackness then, as it hid the sight of her blushing cheeks.

"Sorry about that," she stammered, quickly letting go.

Seifer took her hands and put them back on his wrists. "Actually, I kinda liked it. Felt good. You're probably better at it than I am, anyway."

"Thanks. I think…"

Ignoring the sudden rush of warmth that raced through her, Quistis went back to work on Seifer's wrists. It didn't take long, but although she felt the blood flowing again, she didn't let go right away. Suddenly she realized how close she was to Seifer—had he reached out his arms, he could have held her. Quistis rather liked the thought of that and wondered if she was going mad. But her heart was pounding, and it had nothing to do with fear of the dark.

Letting go of Seifer's wrists, Quistis reached up with one hand to feel the side of his face. _What in Hyne's name am I doing?_ But as she traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, Quistis had no answers. Seifer had always been a troublemaker, had given her more headaches than most any other student she could remember. Yet he didn't seem quite the same now as he had before the war. True, his swaggering ego hadn't changed much, but Quistis sensed that beneath it, _he_ had changed. Not that he'd ever admit it, though.

But she saw it, nonetheless.

Though she couldn't see his face in the dark, Quistis didn't need to. She knew where it was. One breathless moment later, her lips closed over his. As her eyes slid shut, her heart raced, and her skin tingled as though charged with electricity. And then her stomach fluttered as Seifer brought his hand to the small of her back and pressed her to him, returning her kiss passionately. Hyne, it was wonderful! Insane, maybe, but still wonderful.

And Quistis loved it.

----------

After watching the _Shera_ soar into the sky and disappear in a sudden flash of white light, Reeve shouldered his WRO assault rifle and turned to look at his little group. Cait stood next to him, his little red cape swirling about his shoulders and his whiskers twitching idly beneath the little gold crown sitting on his head. Nearby, Red sat on his haunches, waiting expectantly. He shared a knowing look with Reeve before his good eye slid warily over to check on the last member of their company.

Iseldra stood a little apart from the others, still watching the sky where the ship had streaked across the heavens and vanished as though fired from a giant slingshot. Her blue hair hung loosely around her shoulders and nearly down to her hips, and Reeve found himself wondering what it felt like. He shrugged the thought off with more effort than he cared to admit and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"Looks like they made it," he said, "so we'd better get going."

"Agreed," Red replied.

Iseldra joined them, albeit hesitantly. "We should go south. My sisters live mainly in the western regions of the glacier. I'll show you the way."

"Is it far?" Reeve asked.

"By foot, at least a day and a half, maybe two."

Cait nodded. "Then we'd better go on an' get started, lassie. Before it gets too dark and we cannae see ta get anywhere."

"Right," Iseldra agreed.

Following her as she turned her back to the cliffs and walked quietly across the snow, Reeve motioned for Red to go a little ahead while he lingered behind to watch the rear and Cait ambled along in the middle. Although he tried not too think about Iseldra too much, Reeve couldn't help it. His eyes always seemed to return to her as the march south wore on. Why? What was he, the commissioner of the WRO, doing out here in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold? Why was he so intent on trying to help a woman he barely knew and who had brutally attacked his friends just a week ago?

The journey was a quiet one, and Reeve had no answers by the time he and the others finally stopped for the night. They made camp in a small cave, cold but dry. After gathering some wood and getting a fire going just inside the cave mouth, Reeve leaned against the wall and sighed wearily, his legs aching. He wasn't used to being out in the wild like this for so long. But then, he supposed that was his fault for opting to act through his cat much of the time.

After a sparse dinner from the provisions—mostly WRO field rations—that Reeve had brought along, he and the others settled in. Red had opted to take the first watch, and Reeve was going to relieve him after a few hours. The night wore on, and it seemed only minutes later that Reeve felt a furred muzzle bumping the side of his head as Red woke him before curling up at the back of the cave. Reeve stretched, pulled his coat closer about him, and shuffled over to the mouth of the cave. Cait lay by the fire, fast asleep—or at least in shutdown mode. But Reeve preferred to think of it as sleep, just as he preferred to think of Cait as a real cat and not the animatronic, hi-tech puppet he really was.

Iseldra sat against the other wall, but she was still awake, her scarlet eyes gazing into the fire at something Reeve couldn't see. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Reeve. He found her eyes oddly pretty, though he didn't know quite why. They were a softer red, not the shade of blood he had first thought them to be. After a moment, Iseldra got up and slowly approached him.

"May I join you?" she asked hesitantly.

Reeve nodded. "Of course. Having trouble sleeping?"

"I don't know. I'm worried about my son, of course, but… there's more than that. I'd like to ask you something, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead," Reeve answered gently.

Iseldra sat down, her closeness not at all unpleasant. "Why are you helping me?"

The question caught Reeve off guard, but only for a moment. He wasn't sure he could answer it, though. And yet, now that he actually thought about it, he realized that he could. He had known all along, even if he hadn't understood it at first. Would she? Reeve guessed that she might. She wasn't so different than him, at least in some ways.

"Because… I know what you're going through, Iseldra. I know what it's like not to be trusted, to wonder if you're on the right side, if you're doing the right thing."

Iseldra answered softly. "You do?"

"Too well. I used to work for Shinra, and… well, when I was there I did some things I'm not proud of. Things I'd take back if I could."

"What things?"

Reeve sighed. "Kidnapping, betrayal… that sort of thing. I joined Cloud and the others through Cait as a spy for Shinra and held Marlene and a friend of hers hostage to ensure that they did what Shinra wanted. So as you can see, I understand your feelings, because they were my own not so long ago."

"Is that why you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes. And… you can trust me, as well. I'll do everything I can to help you."

Iseldra shifted a few errant hairs from her face with fingers that weren't quite steady. Nor was her voice. "Thank you, Reeve. I… I'm sorry, I just… I'm not used to being treated… like this. Like a person instead of… a monster…"

"I don't think you're a monster," Reeve said.

"You mean that? Not even… not even after what I did to the little girl?"

Reeve reached out and hesitantly took her hand. It was small, soft, and unexpectedly warm. He'd thought her people would be cold-blooded, given their preferred environment, but apparently that wasn't so. Her skin was a light, frosty blue, and attractive in an exotic sort of way, much like her azure hair and scarlet eyes. Reeve couldn't quite ignore the tingling in his fingers as he grasped hers, or the sudden racing of his heart. And he wasn't sure he wanted to. "We've all done things we regret, Iseldra. But we can't linger on it. All we can do is live in a better way and do our best not to let those things happen again."

"A better way…" Iseldra murmured. "Is that possible… for someone like me?"

"Isn't that why you tried to leave the glacier?" Reeve asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm tired of this place, tired of this life, of being feared and hated. Of always running and hiding. And… of being alone…"

"But you aren't alone, Iseldra. Not anymore."

"I… have no friends," she said.

Reeve gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You have one."

----------

"Well," Seifer remarked, pulling away, "_that_ was an interesting experience."

And unexpected. But not unpleasant. Quite the contrary, in fact. Although Seifer wasn't quite sure yet if he was in love or just plain crazy. The last time he had kissed a girl had been with Rinoa, that summer before the hell that had been the Sorceress War. He hadn't thought he would ever do so again. But maybe it was time to renew acquaintances with old habits.

"Is that all you have to say?" Quistis fumed.

Seifer smirked. "What, you want me to proclaim my undying love or something?"

"No, but you _could_ say something suitably romantic."

He wasn't sure he could have done that, though, what with how jumbled his thoughts had become. Only slipping into the familiar swagger brought him some measure of stability in this otherwise heartspinning moment. Seifer didn't want to put Quistis off—now that he thought about it, he did kind of like her—but he was quite sure that any lovey-dovey mush he were to spit out would sound exquisitely stupid. He didn't have much experience with that sort of thing outside of Rinoa, and even then it was the swagger that she had liked, the confidence he'd always radiated. But that wouldn't work here. Quistis only found it annoying.

Besides, not all of his confidence was still there.

Seifer had never doubted himself until he'd encountered the sorceress and gotten wound up in her damn schemes. And much as he would have liked to be rid of it, doubt ever gnawed at him like some maddened rodent trying to eat him up from the inside out. Not that he'd ever show it, though. The last thing he wanted was to look weak. But as he savored the lingering taste of Quistis' lips on his, Seifer wondered if maybe unloading a little of this inner bullshit might not be such a bad idea after all. Girls did like that, after all.

"Romantic, huh?" Seifer leaned close, his arms still around her, and kissed her again. "You know, I could get used to this. I really could. How about you?"

"Maybe. But why don't we try getting out of here first?"

Oh, right. Seifer knew he'd forgotten something. Ever since Quistis' lips had first brushed against his, all thoughts of the present situation had fled from his mind. Come to think of it, any thought whatsoever had seemed faraway at that moment. But now, Seifer recalled what was going on, the pitch dark cell he and Quistis were trapped in, and the cuffs they had just unfastened together. What was the next step? She had mentioned it just prior to kissing him…

Then he remembered. "Oh, yeah. Gotta find that door, right?"

"Right," Quistis agreed. "And after we get out of here and get this whole situation settled and we return to Garden, _maybe_ I'll let you kiss me some more."

"Maybe?"

Quistis wriggled out of his grasp and got to her feet. "We'll see, Seifer."

"You're such a tease," he snickered, joining her.

"Just shut up and help me find the door, would you?" she said.

Seifer reached out with his hands and walked to his left until his fingers touched the wall. He didn't have to go far—the cell was claustrophobically small, about the size of an average bathroom. That was something Seifer didn't like, though he wasn't about to say so to Quistis. But it wasn't until he had taken a few deep, quiet breaths that the feeling of the walls pressing in against him subsided. Damned stupid phobias.

Feeling his way along the damp stone while Quistis checked the opposite wall, Seifer concentrated on finding the seam that would indicate where the door was. Long, silent moments passed with neither him nor Quisis speaking, both concentrating on the task at hand. Yet Seifer couldn't get the taste of Quistis' lips out of his mind, or off of his mouth. Not that he wanted to. But, damn, it was distracting.

So much so he almost missed the seam. But he found it, just a slight vertical cleft in the otherwise smooth stone. "Got it, Quistis. Over here."

"Alright," she said, joining him. "Does it move when you push it?"

Seifer shoved against it and grunted. "Nope. Not an inch. You sure it doesn't open inward?"

"That wouldn't make any sense, Seifer. Cell doors swing outward, not in. That way they can usually only be opened from the outside."

"There's gotta be a latch, though. Gimme those pins again, Quistis."

Seifer stretched his hand out toward the sound of her voice, and a moment later felt her fingers brush across it as they dropped the bobby pins onto his palm. Ignoring as best he could the tingling in his skin as Quistis' hand slid across it and fell away, Seifer took one of the pins in his other hand and used both to feel around the door's edges for the latch.

He found it sooner than he thought he would, though it took what might have been an hour's worth of poking and twisting to get the damned thing open. But as the latch finally clicked loose and the door swung outward at Seifer's light push, a breath of open—if smelly—air wafted in. Seifer had never thought he'd ever be glad to breath in the scummy fumes of the sewers, but compared to the stifling little cell he and Quistis had shared for who knew how long, it was like inhaling sweet early morning mist in the mountains.

"We did it," Quistis breathed, hurrying into the tunnel.

Seifer followed her. "Yeah. But what now?"

"I've been down in the sewers before, back when the sorceress had her parade, remember? The tunnels look familiar. I think they come up right under the Memorial Arch."

"What about our weapons?" Seifer frowned at the thought of losing Hyperion.

Quistis thought about it for a moment. "Whoever's in power now probably has troops posted throughout the city. I'd imagine that whoever locked us in here is inside the Arch. Aside from operating the gates, it's an old guard station from when the city was first built. Rinoa was telling me about it when we were here for the negotiations a few weeks ago."

"Got it. Find the Arch, and we find the guards. And our gear. Right?"

"Right. You ready?"

Seifer snickered. "Need you ask?"

----------

"You mean we're just gonna walk up to the front gate?" Zell blinked. _That _was her plan?

Zell stood with Sara in the shadow of a copse of carefully trimmed Galbadian oaks in Deling City's Memorial Park, just to the side of the massive Arch. People walked up and down the road and meandered through the park's neatly paved paths, but none paid any notice to Zell or Sara. Out of uniform and in ordinary clothes, they were just two more visitors here. Nothing worth paying attention to. At least Zell hoped so.

Sara nodded. "Yeah. They'll let us in. Because they know who I am."

"You don't really think your stepmom's just gonna turn things back over to Caraway, do you? I mean, it ain't gonna be that easy."

"I know, Zell. But I have to face her. I've run long enough."

Zell blinked. "You'd fight your own…?"

"She's not my mother," Sara said pointedly. "And yes, I would."

"Man, this is crazy, but… you know I'll back you up. Just wish we had Squall and the rest here to help us out. Frickin' hell…"

Sara's expression softened. "Me, too. And… thanks…"

"Well, you know me," Zell grinned sheepishly. "I can't stay mad at ya forever."

"Same here," Sara smiled.

She slid into his arms, and for a moment Zell just held her, glad that the rift between them was healing. He hadn't liked the tension that had risen lately upon learning who she was. Zell hated his tendency to overreact and speak before he thought. How Sara was able to put up with it so much, he would never know. But he loved her for it, just the same.

"Yo, Sara…" he said.

She looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Uh… I know you said there's still some stuff you haven't told me about yourself, an' that's cool. Just wanted to say sorry for blowin' up earlier, you know? I mean, I know you didn't wanna hurt me or nothin'. And what ever else you want to tell me about yourself, well, don't be afraid, 'kay? 'Cause I, uh… love you an' all, yeah."

Sara touched her lips to his. "Thanks. And… I love you, too."

Nodding resolutely, Zell grinned. "Alright, let's finish this thing! C'mon!"

But as he let her go and started to move, Zell felt Sara pull him back into the shade of the trees. "Not yet, Zell. There's one more thing I should tell you first."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I never told you what happened to my mother," she explained softly. "I've never told anyone, except Headmaster Martine over at Galbadia Garden. You know he's like a father to me, and I love him like you guys loved Cid. It's not that I don't trust you, Zell, it's just… this is difficult for me to talk about…"

Zell took her hand. "You can tell me when we're home, okay?"

"No, Zell. Astasia might say something, and I'd rather you already know. Better you hear things from me than from her."

"Okay. Go on an' tell me, then."

Absently fiddling with the tail of her blond braid, Sara nodded. "You know my mother died years ago, but I never said how. Zell, she… she was killed. By my father."

"_What?"_ Zell gaped.

"Not directly—that wasn't his way. But you see, my mother eventually got tired of the charade, of never being able to be as much a part of my life as we both wanted. When I wasn't at Galbadia Garden, I was here being paraded around as proof of my father's 'commitment' to family. As if he ever understood what that really meant.

"My mother threatened to go public with the fact that I was illegitimate, that I wasn't Astasia's daughter. I don't doubt my father could've recovered from the blow—he owned Galbadia, pretty much—but he wouldn't tolerate any smear on his image. And the resistance in Timber would have just the fuel they needed if word of his infidelity got out.

"So he arranged to have her killed. I only found out about it later, from Martine—he'd done some investigations of his own after this had all happened. But it was Galbadia Garden that my father used to do it. He used an anonymous contact to hire them to kill her. That sort of thing wasn't usually done, but the money was too much to pass up—and I don't need to tell you how the Garden Masters were. Martine was never told about it until after it happened, because my father went to the Garden Master for the job, not to him.

"A sniper's bullet cut my mother down when I was fifteen. I was out training that day when they told me. But there's something else you need to know, Zell, and this is why I wanted to tell you now instead of later. Galbadia Garden had only a few sharpshooters, they still do, and my father's orders insisted they use their best one."

Zell's eyes widened. "You mean…?"

"Yeah," Sara nodded grimly. "It was Irvine. He killed my mother, Zell."

"But… but that ain't like him!"

Sara shook her head. "Are you sure? He's a trained sniper. You can't think he hadn't done any missions at all before meeting up with you guys."

"Still, he's one of us! He's annoying sometimes, but… he's not a killer, Sara! He helped Squall and the rest of us beat the sorceress! He was gonna marry Selphie!"

"I know. He wasn't told the name of his target, but it doesn't change the fact that he killed her. So you can see why I'm not overly fond of him."

Zell sighed. "Yeah. I kinda noticed it back before the wedding, I think."

"I kept away from him for a lot of reasons. It wasn't easy being near him again, and not just because of what he did. Zell, I know he did it because he told me himself after he found out that it was my mother he had killed. He had never met her, because he was almost always hanging out around the Garden. With me, if he wasn't training or in class. Because… he and I… we… we had been seeing each other at the time."

"You and Irvine were…?" Zell gaped.

Sara nodded. "Until he confessed to killing my mother, yes. Things ended between us pretty quickly after that. This was almost a year before the sorceress arrived and the war broke out. I can't say I was sorry when Irvine left to go with you guys."

Zell leaned against a nearby tree and tried to take it all in. No wonder Sara had kept it from him. And he understood now why she had wanted to tell him before meeting Astasia. If Zell had heard any of this from her, he wouldn't have believed it, would've probably hated Sara for not doing what she had done just now. It couldn't have been easy for her. And… she and Irvine… had been together? No wonder Irvine hadn't looked comfortable around her back before the wedding. What did he think about Zell seeing her now?

But that had to wait. Zell straightened, knowing that he and Sara didn't have much time. But even so, he was glad she had told him the truth. There was something else he had to know, however, now that he knew about her and Irvine. And although he knew time was short, he still had to ask. "Hey, Sara…"

"Hmm?"

Zell swallowed hard. "Do you… do you still feel anything… for him?"

Sara took his hand. "I'd be lying if I said no, but… it's you I love, Zell. Whatever happened between me and Irvine is in the past. It used to be so easy to hate him, but now… I talked to him just before we left on this mission, and I thought I'd enjoy seeing him in pain for once. But I didn't. Not at all…"

"You can't forgive him?" Zell asked.

"I don't know. Could you if he had killed your mother?"

Zell scratched his head. "I see what you mean. Damn, but that's a toughie. Still, gotta try, don't ya? Better than stayin' hurt, right?"

"Maybe," Sara admitted. "We'll see. But we've got to go."

"Right. And, Sara?"

She looked at him. "What?"

"Thanks," Zell kissed her. "For tellin' me."

"You're welcome. I wish it could have been under other circumstances, but at least it's out now. I'm sorry I didn't say anything before."

Zell brushed it off. "Don't worry 'bout it, Sara. It's cool."

She smiled then, that dazzling little smile that always sent Zell's heart spinning. It was the first real smile he'd seen in some time, from anyone. Ever since the attack on Garden. Zell was glad to see it again. It hurt to have lost Selphie and the others and possibly Quistis and Ellone, too—and he, admitted grudgingly, Seifer—but Zell realized he couldn't dwell on it, couldn't let himself get lost in the pain. He had to move on, just like everyone else.

Letting go of Sara's hand, Zell reached into his jacket pocket and slipped on his red and black Ergheiz gloves. He doubted he and Sara would be able to talk Astasia into cooperating, so he was going to be ready to kick some ass if he had to. Sara was, too. She took out her handguns—a pair of .45 Galbadian semi-automatics—one by one and slapped a fresh clip into each. After loading the second one, she drew the first again so that she was holding one in each hand.

Zell couldn't repress a tight grin at the sight—Sara loved her guns almost as much as she loved him. Her green eyes glittering, she twirled the semiautomatics effortlessly in her hands like one of those Galbadian gunslingers Zell had seen in the movies sometimes. But dressed as she was in a pair of pressed blue jeans, soft leather boots, a white button-down blouse, and a brown leather jacket, Sara looked nothing like those grizzled old cowboys. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and her braid of golden hair hung loosely over one shoulder.

"You ready?" she said, expertly bringing her spinning weapons to a halt.

Zell let out a low whistle. "Damn… I ever tell you how frickin' sexy you are?"

Soft lips closed over his, and when she finally pulled away, her eyes met his with a fierceness he hadn't seen before, and her voice spoke in a husky whisper. "When this is all over, Zell, I'll show you just how sexy I can be."

She kissed him again, just for a moment, and Zell felt his heart careening through his chest like a pinball caroming off the bumpers. Hyne, he loved her. And the promise of exploring that love set his skin practically on fire. It was all he could do to keep his mind on the task at hand.

He laughed shakily. "Then let's hurry up and finish this, eh?

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

Slipping her guns back inside her jacket for the time being, she headed out of the trees and toward the winding path that led to the park's exit. Zell joined her, slipping an arm around her waist so that anyone who saw them would think them nothing but a young couple out for an evening stroll. He kept his other hand in his pocket so his glove wouldn't show, but his eyes darted about everywhere, noting where the different troops were posted. They wore black rather than the usual blue, but Zell didn't know what that might mean.

At last, he and Sara reached the gate. Stepping outside of it and onto the sidewalk that ran along Memorial Avenue, Zell stopped for a moment to gaze at the far end, where the presidential palace waited in the middle of the round plaza. Sara stood beside him, her expression tense as she, too, looked at their destination.

Zell let go of her and clenched his fists. "Here we go…"


	24. Transference

**Chapter 23  
Transference**

"Shit!" Cid blurted.

Tifa frowned as the ship shuddered with sudden turbulence. "What's going on?"

He shook his head. "Damned if I know…"

Exchanging a worried glance with Cloud, Tifa hoped the jump to the other world just now hadn't damaged the ship somehow. But the turbulence was intensifying again rather than subsiding, drawing anxious looks from the WRO crew manning their stations around the bridge. Tifa was turning around to talk to Cid again when the ship suddenly shook violently and lurched to one side as a sudden blast of sound tore through the air and alarm klaxons wailed.

Tifa went flying as the deck abruptly tilted crazily to port amidst Cid's frantic yells and the panicked chatter of the WRO crew, and it was only through her finely honed reflexes and instinct that she managed to tuck her body together and roll back to her feet. Tifa couldn't quite stop her momentum, however, and stumbled into the back of a crewman's chair before finally coming to a stop. She looked back to see Cloud and the others picking themselves up, but as her gaze slipped past them to the clear dome of the bridge windows, Tifa's eyes widened.

"Oh, no…"

Smoke wafted past the bridge on the starboard side of the ship, black fumes that could only have come from the engines. What had happened? Tifa whirled around immediately to Cid, but the gruff pilot was already shouting something at the engineering crew through the comm system. Or trying to. All Tifa could make out in that moment was a long string of swearing that would have made a sailor proud.

Barret spoke up first. "What the hell's goin' on, Cid?"

"Can't reach the engineering deck. Somethin' blew down there, I'm sure of it. Musta been from the jump. We're losin' altitude faster than spit flies."

"Damn," Cloud swore. "Can you land the ship?"

Cid nodded. "Yeah. It'll be bumpy as hell, but I'll get us down."

From Tifa's other side, Squall looked anxiously at the pilot. "You're sure the comm system's down? You can't reach engineering?"

"Not a chance. Sorry."

"I'm going down there," Squall said, moving before he even finished speaking.

Tifa joined him. "I'll go with you, Squall. Rinoa might not be the only one hurt down there, after all. Besides, somebody's gotta show you where it is."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Thanks."

"Hurry back," Cloud told them. "And find Yuffie and Vincent if you can, too."

Tifa nodded. "We'll look out for them."

As she led Squall through the door on the back port side of the bridge, Tifa remembered then that Yuffie had been in engineering with Rinoa. As for Vincent, he had returned to the observation lounge after boarding the ship in Icicle. Tifa was sure they would both be alright, but she'd feel better once she found them.

The ship continued to shake, though it was less now that it had been before, but Tifa could feel it descending. There wasn't much time. She hurried through the corridor, making a left and heading through another door and down the winding ramp to the lower deck, passing a few WRO crew as she went. With Squall right on her heels, Tifa headed through a third door and suddenly skidded to a halt outside engineering, staring in horror.

Black fumes of smoke poured out from what had once been the door to engineering but was now just a shattered, gaping hole with metal fragments littering the deck nearby. Tifa couldn't see a thing inside the room aside from smoke and flames and debris. She coughed, her eyes stinging, and called out to her friends inside. "Yuffie! Rinoa! Are you in there?"

"Rinoa!" Squall yelled.

He was about to leap inside when a pair of figures limped out of the haze to meet them. Yuffie—scratched, smeared with ash, but otherwise unharmed aside from the ankle she was obviously favoring—had an arm around Rinoa's shoulder and was supporting her as she walked. Blood smeared the side of Rinoa's head and her steps were uncertain, but her eyes were clear. Squall quickly took her from Yuffie and slipped his own arm around her.

"What happened? Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'll… I'll be fine, Squall," Rinoa answered. "It was me. My power, I mean. I think I used too much of it, I don't know…"

Yuffie shook her head. "You did just what the ice girl said, Rinoa."

Tifa looked at her. "So what did happen?"

"When we made the jump, the whole place just lit up like a Wutai fireworks display! I don't think the engines liked whatever it was Rinoa was doin' to 'em."

"What's the damage?" a new voice asked.

Tifa turned around in relief. "Vincent! Are you okay?"

"I'm unharmed. But I saw the smoke and felt the ship shaking. So I came here to investigate. What about the crew?"

"I got 'em out already," Yuffie said. "while Rinoa was trying to stabilize the place. We got lucky, nobody was hurt too bad. They're all down in sickbay getting patched up. But the engine still blew, Vince. Half the panels fried out, and one of 'em caught Rinoa in the face when it did. I think that's when the comm system shorted out, too."

Vincent grimaced. "We can't go far like this."

"Cid's landing the ship right now," Tifa said. "But you're right, we're going to lose time."

She didn't want to think of how little Ellone had left, nor what she might be going through in the midst of her captivity. Tifa hated the delay, but she knew that the jump had crippled the _Shera,_ at least until repairs could be made. And there was no telling how long that was going to take. She only hoped she and the others could still reach Ellone in time.

Squall turned to her. "We're still heading toward that bridge, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"There's a town in the middle of it—Fisherman's Horizon. I don't know how far we are from it, but it's right on the bridge. The place is full of engineers and mechanics, so they ought to be able to help with the repairs."

Tifa nodded. "Thanks."

"Sure. Where's your sickbay?" Squall asked. "I want to get Rinoa fixed up."

"Back by the bridge. It's on the way there."

He started off that way without another word, Rinoa leaning heavily against him as he took her through the corridors. But after just a moment, Squall paused as if remembering something, then turned around to the others. "I'll join the rest of you guys in a bit, once I've seen to Rinoa. Just tell Cid to head east along the bridge. Got it?"

"East, right!" Yuffie echoed. "We got it!"

Even as she spoke, half a dozen WRO crewmembers were funneling past her and the others, fire extinguishers and other gear ready as they charged into the smoldering furnace that was engineering. The blaze was already dying down as Squall finally left with Rinoa, and the crew was starting to bring it under control as Tifa hurried back to the bridge, Vincent and Yuffie behind her. She could feel the ship still descending, and one look at Yuffie's rather green face told her the other girl had noticed it as well.

"Ohh, Cid better land this piece of crap soon!" Yuffie wailed.

Tifa and the others emerged onto the bridge to find Cloud standing next to Cid at the helm, his hands flying over the controls while Cid struggled to keep the wheel from spinning out of control. Barret and Irvine were both near the navidome, looking at the semispherical projection within it of the world into which the ship had just emerged. Much of the map was incomplete, but some of the ship's scanners were still functioning and so bit by bit, seas and land masses began forming on the display as though drawn by invisible hands.

Cloud looked up as Tifa entered. "Everyone all right down there?"

"Shaken, but no serious injuries," she said. "Squall's in sickbay with Rinoa. We need to head east, there's a town right out on the bridge."

"Right. Cid, can we make it?"

Cid grunted. "You bet your ass we can! Hang on!"

Tifa did just that as the ship shuddered again and sped lower, the vast, undulating blue carpet of the ocean spread out beneath it as far as she could see in every direction. The solitary landmark that was the old train bridge stretched out parallel to the _Shera_'s course and disappeared over the eastern horizon. With luck, the town wouldn't be far, but Tifa knew that the ship couldn't fly on one engine for much longer.

"There!" Barret was the first to see it, stabbing a metal finger ahead of him far past the ship's nose. "I think that's it, ain't it?"

Irvine squinted in the direction Barret was looking at. "Yep. Fisherman's Horizon."

After a moment, Tifa saw it, a sprawling mass of piers and docks jutting out at varying heights from along the circumference of a round, bowl-like structure of polished metal. Houses and shops stood on the docks and all along the train tracks that wound throughout the town, and a few small clusters of buildings sat at the base of the huge metal bowl… dish… whatever it was, around which everything seemed to have been built.

The city was growing steadily larger within the _Shera_'s bridge viewports, and much faster than Tifa would have liked. She exchanged a worried glance with Cloud as she held onto a nearby console and saw her concern reflected in his eyes and the set of his jaw. Were they going to crash? Tifa hoped not, but the deck was shaking more badly beneath her feet than it had been, and the water wasn't so far beneath the ship anymore.

Her stomach turned queasily inside her, but whether from the descent or from another bout of morning sickness, she couldn't be sure. She'd managed to avoid that for the most part, luckily, but still she had to swallow hard to keep her lunch from flying onto the deck. Tifa clutched the console even tighter as a wave of dizziness suddenly hit her. It was mild, fortunately, but she still had to shake her head to clear it away. Much as she loved being pregnant, Tifa found she could live quite happily without some of its side effects.

Moments later the airship slammed into the sea, skidding across it like an oversized motorboat as water splashed over the bridge viewports and briny foam shot high into the air. It wasn't long before the _Shera_ at last slowed enough for Cid to cut the single remaining engine, and as the airship at last came to a stop alongside the town, the bridge was oddly quiet. Tifa glanced around anxiously, still a little nauseous. "Everyone alright?"

"I think so," Cloud nodded, glancing around the bridge. "We're down, at least. Cid?"

The dry scratching of a match lighting pierced the quiet as Cid lit up a cigarette and took a long, shaky drag. "Not one of my best landings, but it'll do."

"We still alive, ain't we?" Barret said. "Man, that was close. What's the damage?"

"Port engine's shot, and I'm guessin' half the lower decks are fillin' up with water—we tore the shit outta the hull down there when we came down."

Yuffie's eyes widened. "Are we gonna sink!"

"Hell, no!" Cid growled. "The emergency bulkheads sealed off those sections when the water started comin' in. We'll stay afloat, but we ain't flyin' till we're dry."

"So what do we do?" she asked.

Cloud turned to Irvine. "Squall said you've got engineers here, right?"

"Yeah," the lanky cowboy nodded. "Town's full of 'em. When we first activated the Garden's flight systems, we had no idea how to control the thing. We ended up crashing here and the tech guys fixed everything right up. Even made us a special console on the bridge just so Nida—he… he was our pilot, and a good buddy of ours—could fly it wherever we needed to go. Not sure who's gonna do that now, though…"

"What do you mean?" Tifa asked cautiously. She hadn't missed the odd strain in Irvine's voice when he had mentioned Nida.

Irvine shook his head. "It's nothin' you need to worry about."

"Actually," a new voice said as the door at the back of the bridge hissed open, "it is. We're facing the same enemy, Irvine."

"Squall," Tifa smiled at him as he approached. "How's Rinoa?"

"Better, thanks. I take it we've landed?"

Cloud nodded. "Yeah. Everyone seems to be okay, but the ship's gonna need repairs. We'll need to go into town and find some of these engineers you mentioned."

"They'll come to us," Squall said. "They're not overly fond of outsiders, you see."

As if on cue, a female WRO crewman at one of the starboard consoles suddenly turned and addressed the others. "Excuse me, but there's a boat coming this way."

"Sounds like the locals," Cid grunted. "Better let 'em in."

"Yes, sir. The cargo bay?"

Cid nodded. "Yeah, we'll meet 'em there."

"I'm heading into town anyway," Squall folded his arms. "Now that we're here, I'll contact Garden and have them come and meet us."

"They're still in Balamb, right?" Irvine asked.

Squall turned to him. "Right. If the repairs to the _Shera_ aren't finished by the time the Garden gets here, we'll take the _Ragnarok_ instead."

"Man," Irvine sighed, "it's not gonna be the same without Sefie…"

Something had happened, Tifa guessed. And it hadn't been pleasant. Squall said that Gravheine had been responsible for whatever it was. All the more reason to stop her. As if he had read her mind, Squall turned to her, his expression carefully neutral but his blue-grey eyes reflecting the unmistakable pain of loss. Tifa knew that pain herself, all too well, and to see it in the eyes of her new friends was heartwrenching.

She looked at Squall knowingly. "We're gonna be here for a little while, right? So after you come back from town, why don't you tell us what's happened here? Like you said, we've got the same enemy. We'll help any way we can."

"Alright," he agreed. "We're in this together, so you ought to know everything."

"We'll be here," Cloud said. "Hurry up and call your Garden."

Squall nodded and left, and a moment later, Cloud and Cid followed with Barret and Irvine close behind as the four went to meet the engineers from Fisherman's Horizon. Yuffie limped through the door last of all, saying something about fixing up her ankle now that Cid had finally landed this junk heap. For a moment, Tifa lingered on the bridge, not quite sure what to do, although she figured she'd visit Rinoa in a bit. But first there was someone else she wanted to talk to.

Still gazing silently out of the clear dome of the bridge windshield at the gently rolling sea beyond, Vincent didn't move at first when Tifa approached him. He hadn't said much since they'd arrived here, and Tifa thought she knew why. Ellone's bladestaff was still strapped to his back—he hadn't removed it except to hold it back in Icicle when he'd been brooding up in the passenger lounge. He wasn't brooding now, though.

"I'm fine," he answered Tifa's question before she could ask it.

She laughed. "That's good to hear."

"But I feel Squall doesn't trust me. Normally I wouldn't care, but… he is Ellone's brother. I don't know why that matters, though."

"Well, it's always nice to get along with the girl's family, don't you think?"

Vincent shrugged. "I suppose. But mostly I've been thinking about Ellone. Worrying, to be more precise. Do we know where she is?"

"Squall said she's probably being held in a place called Esthar," Tifa answered. "Some scientist named Odine's got her, I think."

"Not for long," Vincent hissed.

His hands—both of them, now that he no longer wore the claw—clenched into fists as his eyes narrowed. Tifa knew why. He was thinking of Hojo, no doubt. And about the kinds of things the twisted Shinra scientist had done to him and to Lucrecia. What was happening to Ellone now? What was Odine doing to her? Tifa shivered, suddenly afraid for her.

"I won't let it happen again," Vincent growled softly. "Not again…"

"We'll get her back, Vincent. Count on it."

Vincent nodded. "I will. But Tifa, are you not well? You seem ill…"

He had noticed? Tifa stood there with her mouth open for a moment, not sure how to reply. She didn't mind the others knowing about the baby, but she hadn't really thought about telling them yet what with all that had happened. It just hadn't occurred to her. Things were just too hectic right now. But then again, Vincent did have a way of seeing things that most others usually missed. Cloud and Barret already knew, and everyone else had been too caught up in landing the ship to notice anything out of the ordinary about her.

"I'm not sick, Vincent," Tifa smiled again. "I'm perfectly fine. I did feel a little bit like throwing up back there, but that's normal."

"I don't understand…"

Tifa chuckled. "I'm having a baby, Vincent."

He didn't say anything at first, but instead looked at her with mild surprise. He blinked, and his eyes slid involuntarily to her midsection for a moment before rising back to meet her own again. There was no need to wonder what he might be thinking, because Tifa already knew. Just as the same thing was on her own mind.

"Congratulations, Tifa," Vincent said softly, "I hope this one will be alright."

"Thanks. And so do I, but… I'm afraid I'll lose it again. Like the others. There's got to be something I can do, isn't there?"

Vincent sighed. "Cloud had the best doctors in the WRO look at you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, after the second miscarriage. But they didn't find anything."

"Hmm. Maybe a doctor here can help you," Vincent suggested. "Our new acquaintances might know where to look."

Tifa thought he might be right. "It's worth a shot."

"This Garden of theirs is a military school, from what Ellone told us in Icicle. So it should have some kind of infirmary."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Tifa agreed. "I was going to go visit Rinoa anyway while Cid and the others are fixing up the ship. So I'll ask her. Who knows, Vincent? Their doctor might even be able to help you, too. With Chaos, I mean."

Vincent sighed. "Maybe, maybe not. I can live with it if I have to."

"It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? Being free of him, really living again?"

"Yes," Vincent murmured, "it would…"

Tifa patted his shoulder. "I hope it works out for you. Anyway, I'll be in the medlab with Rinoa if you need me, okay?"

"Alright. Take care."

"You, too, Vincent."

Smiling encouragingly at him, Tifa turned and headed for the bridge door. She hoped he was right about her baby. So many things in her life had gone wrong in the past, so many things had been taken from her. And while her life these days was undeniably much better than it had been before Meteorfall, Tifa still wished for that last piece of the puzzle that was her family. Sure, she loved Denzel and Marlene as fiercely and deeply as if they were her own flesh and blood, but… she wanted very much to have this baby, this wonderful new life that she and Cloud had made together. In a way it was the culmination of everything that had come before.

Tifa was halfway to the door when her gorge suddenly rose again. Uh-oh. And she didn't think she could stop it this time. She sped for the door at a dead run, ignoring the looks a few of the WRO crewmen gave her as she passed, and rushed through the corridor to the nearest bathroom as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. So much for not having any morning sickness today. Tifa hurried inside, bent over the sink, and immediately threw up.

Her visit with Rinoa would have to wait.

----------

The first thing Ellone was aware of was the cold.

It was always cold in here, and not just the temperature. The towering walls of her familiar cage loomed over her much like she remembered them doing when she had been here as a child. Her body ached all over, not just from the wound in her chest but from other places as well. What had Odine done to her? Vaguely, Ellone recalled images of the testing chamber, another place that had haunted her nightmares more than once. Needles prodding and poking at her flesh, current sizzling in and out of her through electrodes stuck to her skin, the harshly bright lights above the table upon which she had been strapped. The steady beeping of computers recording and analyzing all manner of data.

How long ago had that been? And how long until the next session? Always before, it had been the same. One long, horrible testing session after another. Day after day, and sometimes into the night as well. Ellone lay on the damp, chilly floor of her cell—Odine and the technicians had always called it her room, but there was no way this room would ever be hers, with its frowing steel walls and high observation windows where Odine could see her whenever he wanted. No, this was not her room. It was her prison.

Ellone rubbed her chest absently, the ache deeper now than before. It was hard to move, but whether that was from her wound or the drugs Odine's cronies had injected her with, she didn't know. But it hurt, nonetheless. Her head felt light, and when she looked up too quickly, Ellone swayed dizzily and sagged against the wall, her back to the cell door and the observation windows above it. She wouldn't let Odine see what he was doing to her.

Suddenly she remembered the white materia. Had he found it? Ellone felt frantically around her clothes, but it wasn't there. She had been holding it in the Forgotten Capital when the Turks had come for her, and when the fight had begun, she had slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans. Her pocket! Ellone reached inside, hardly daring to breathe, and her fingers closed almost immediately over the tiny orb. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Odine had missed it after all. Still, Ellone knew she couldn't risk him finding it.

Curling her legs up to her chest so her knees were just under her chin, Ellone huddled with her back to the observation windows and pretended to cry. As she did so, she took the white materia from her pocket, closed her fingers around it, and slipped down the front of her sleeveless top. Odine may have been wacko, but even he had never tried to touch her where he shouldn't. Not out of morality, to be sure, but simply because he was too caught up in his research to care about matters like that. Ellone's top wasn't cut too high, but it was high enough that she was fairly sure Odine and his lackeys wouldn't see the materia.

Satisfied that she had done what she could, Ellone lay against the wall again and let her eyes slide closed. She thought of her friends, of Squall and Uncle Laguna, of Cloud and Tifa. And of Vincent. Would they come for her? Ellone pushed away her doubts. Of course they would. Vincent would, she knew. Even if he had to come alone. Ellone felt her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. Did she love him? She thought that she did. It was one of the only things keeping her going here, the thought of seeing him again. And the others, of course. But him more than the rest, she had to admit.

A sudden deepening of the cold brought Elloen from her thoughts, and though the door never opened, she knew then that she wasn't alone. She knew who was there, and as she opened her eyes, Ellone wasn't surprised to see Gravheine, her hood cast back and her lustrous black hair spilling over her shoulders. A snake lay coiled around her arm, and it hissed softly at Ellone. She ignored it, however, and focused on Gravheine. "What do you want?"

"I'm about to retrieve something I have sought for an age of this world and more," Gravheine said, "but I wanted to see you first."

"Why?"

Gravheine's amber eyes regarded her with, of all things, puzzlement. "Dr. Odine has discovered something very unusual about you that I find… disturbing…"

Ellone shivered. "What's that?"

"Sa'miel killed you, Ellone. You should have stayed dead, but you didn't. Something keeps you alive, spirit energy from a soul that hasn't entirely returned to the planet."

"I know. I'm alive because of Atrus. The man you loved."

At the mention of Atrus, Gravheine looked away, unable to meet Ellone's gaze. "Yes, I… I loved him. And it is to be with him again that I do what I do."

Ellone thought she understood. Through the visions the white materia had shown her, she had seen what had happened to Atrus and Gravheine. And while she felt for the other woman—Ellone wondered just how far she would go to save Vincent if something ever happened to him—that didn't change what she knew she had to do. But if there was a way to convince Gravheine to turn aside from her path, Ellone would try it. She owed Atrus that much.

"You can't bring him back, Gravheine," Ellone said. "He died a long time ago."

Gravheine did meet her gaze now. "Yes, he died. But I have been promised the power to change all of that, to form him anew from the planet and be with him once more."

"And that justifies all you've done?"

"I was once as you are, Ellone. Idealistic, principled. But I learned that the world doesn't care about things like that. So why should I? The world didn't care when the man I loved was cut down before my eyes, it didn't care when he died in my arms, it didn't care when I wept, alone in the rain. So if I have to destroy it to save him, so be it."

"He doesn't want that, you know. Did you ever think about that?"

Gravheine sniffed dismissively. "It matters not. Say what you will, but I'll not turn aside from the path I have chosen. I _will_ succeed."

"Will you?" Ellone wondered. "I'm not so sure…"

"I care not for your doubts, Ellone. All that matters is finishing my task."

How could she go on like that? Ellone shook her head, trying to understand how Gravheine could be so blind to the truth. "Your queen's using you, don't you know that?"

"We have a mutual agreement, she and I, no more. By aiding me, she herself benefits from it. She will wake because I have worked to make it so."

"I know that's what she told you, but… you can't trust her."

Gravheine laughed, a harsh sound with no warmth in it at all. "Of course I do not trust her! But I am willing to serve her until her promise is kept."

"She's going to betray you," Ellone insisted. She saw it so clearly now.

"I doubt that. She needs me. But I did not come here to discuss her. I came here because of what is happening to you. Odine tells me that… you are dying."

Ellone nodded. "He's right. But so is Atrus, what's left of his spirit."

"What…?"

"We're fading together, Gravheine. Maybe if he had been alive, he could have saved me fully. But being just a spirit, all he could do was put off the inevitable."

Gravheine looked away. "And in so doing, sacrificed what life he had left…"

"I'm sorry…"

"It is like him, I must admit. He always thought of others before himself. Perhaps that was what first drew me to him."

"He still loves you," Ellone said softly.

It was a moment before Graveheine at last replied. "I wonder sometimes, would he still do so, if he knew what I have become?"

"He already knows. That's why he saved me. To save you."

"I do not need your pity!" Gravheine snarled, her amber eyes blazing. "Nor your help. I am going to wake my Queen, Ellone, and although your life is fading, I will make sure you are there to witness it before you die!"

Ellone shook her head. "I can't let you do that, Gravheine."

"You barely have the strength to hold yourself up. What hope do you have of standing against me? You will be dead by the time her awakening is complete."

"I'll stop you. _We'll _stop you. Me and Atrus. And my friends."

Gravheine eyed her coldly. "Why does my fate matter so much to you?"

"An ancestor of mine made a promise. He swore to protect you, Gravheine. And although Kaedan's long gone, I'm going to keep that promise. Because I've seen what happened to you and to Atrus, and because he saved me as much as he could."

"I do not need you to protect me," Gravheine scoffed.

"Yes, you do. You need me to protect you from yourself. And if I have to fight you to do it, I will. Kaedan made a promise, and so did I. I promised Atrus I would finish this. For both of you. And I don't go back on my word."

Gravheine leaned close, her voice like steel. "Nor do I. And I swore to save Atrus by any means necessary. I swore I would bring him back, and I will."

"You leave me no choice, then," Ellone sighed.

"Don't despair. You may be interested to know that your dear Laguna is on his way here even now. Odine had something special planned for him, however. And he will be ready for the rest of your friends as well. I have seen to that."

A shiver suddenly ran through Ellone's body. Uncle Laguna was coming, but it was a trap! And the others, what was going to happen to them? "What have you done…?"

"Nothing that need concern you. Sleep now, Ellone."

There was a soft hiss and a sudden nip of fangs in her arm, and Ellone felt a brief flash of pain sizzle beneath her skin just before the world began swimming away from her like a mirage. She heard the door to her cell hiss open, but her head felt leaden, far too heavy to move, so she heard rather than saw Odine coming. The last thing she did see was Gravheine, looking down at her with her cold, hard amber eyes. Reptilian eyes. Was there anything left of the woman Atrus had loved? Ellone wasn't so sure anymore. But before she could ponder it any further, she felt herself slumping to the floor as darkness at last took her.

----------

"You know, Laguna, if you keep pacing like that, you're going to wear a hole in the deck," Kiros remarked dryly.

Laguna stopped and scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

They were almost to Esthar, almost home. Home. Funny how the place had come to be that for him. Laguna wasn't sure when it had happened, really. Much like his presidency, it had just sort of snuck up on him. It had been good to visit Winhill again just after Squall and and the others had defeated the sorceress, but… it wasn't the same anymore. It wasn't quite the Winhill that Laguna remembered. It was still small, but not so much as it had been. More houses than he remembered, and more people. Someone else lived in Raine's pub now, though Ellone's old house was still empty. Ellone had considered moving back into it once, but had decided against it, perhaps because like Laguna, the memories were too strong for her.

Elle. Where was she now? Still in that other world? Laguna wasn't sure, and it was the not knowing that had driven him to pacing back and forth so restlessly across the _Illumina_'s bridge. If anyone could find her, it was Squall and the others, but even so, Laguna worried. It wasn't fair that she was always the one to suffer, to be sought after. After the war, Laguna had thought that Elle would finally be able to find a little happiness in her life now that the sorceress that had hunted her so ruthlessly for so long was dead. But fate, it seemed, didn't want that. Much to Laguna's dismay. But he would help her if he could.

A beeping at one of the consoles brought Laguna from his thoughts as the communications officer made her report. "Sir, we're being hailed. It's from the city."

"Put it through," Laguna told her.

"Yes, sir."

A moment later, the image of a familiar face came onto the console's viewscreen. Although the _Illumina_ and its two sister ships hadn't been fitted with the monitors originally but only with a standard radio, Laguna had had the vessels upgraded after the war with improvements and additions to all ship systems in case a conflict like the Sorceress War ever happened again. Laguna also liked being able to see who he was talking to, although in this case, he thought he might make an exception.

Dr. Odine wasn't one of his favorite people, after all.

The diminutive, moustached scientist looked awfully pleased with himself, rubbing his little hands together as he spoke. "Greetings, President Loire."

"What is it, doc?" Laguna asked.

"I vish to velcome you home, in my own personal vay. Vhen you land at ze airstation, an escort vill be avaiting you. Go vith zem quietly, President, and go alone."

Laguna frowned. "Why should I do that?"

"Because," Odine answered smugly, "I have somet'ing—or razer, some_vone_—zat you vant very much. See for yourself!"

On the viewscreen, he swept his arm dramatically behind him, and Laguna realized for the first time that Odine wasn't in his lab in the city but rather at his second, larger facility farther south. It had once been the Lunatic Pandora lab, and just thinking about that floating monolith made Laguna shudder. He was glad he'd had it sunk back into the sea after the war rather than let Odine get his hands on it again. But as the camera panned past Odine to reveal what he was showing off, all thoughts of the Lunatic Pandora fell away in an instant and Laguna's eyes widened as his breath suddenly caught in his throat.

"_Elle!"_

She lay unconscious upon what could only be an examination table of some kind. Straps over her wrists and ankles bound her to it, and in the harsh light cast from the overheard lamps, one of Odine's assistants withdrew a blood-filled syringe from her arm. Equipment beeped, computers hummed as they processed data, and another technician adjusted one of the electrodes that had been placed onto Elle's forehead. She twitched involuntarily as her body reacted to the periodic bursts of current flowing through it.

Odine merely smiled. "You understand now?"

"What the hell are you doing to her, you bastard!" Laguna yelled. If he could have throttled Odine through the viewscreen, he would have.

"Vy, continuing my vesearch, President. And you're going to vatch!"

"_What!"_

Odine leaned in, his moustache twitching. "I've put up vith you long enough, Laguna Loire! At least under Adel, I vas able to do az I pleased. Esthar vill be mine!"

"And just how do you expect to take it?" Laguna demanded.

"I have my vays…"

Something about the way Odine answered chilled Laguna's blood. He felt a hand on his shoulder—Kiros—but couldn't accept its calming influence. Not when his daughter was being tortured like a lab rat. Surely Kiros understood that. A swift glance at his dark-skinned friend's determined expression told Laguna that he did. Ward loomed close by, his huge muscled arms flexing as his eyes looked stonily upon the viewscreen.

Laguna glared at Odine. "You know I'm gonna tell SeeD about this."

"Go ahead!" he laughed, throwing his hands out wide. "Let zem come! I vill be ready!"

"Laguna," Kiros said quietly, "we're almost to the airstation."

What the hell was he supposed to do? Laguna didn't want to do as Odine had demanded, but… if he didn't, what would happen to Elle? And how in Hyne's name had that little maggot managed to pull this off right under his nose? Hadn't Elle been in that other world? How had she gotten there? It all made Laguna's head spin when he tried to figure it out. That and the desire to kick himself for not seeing Odine's betrayal sooner.

Laguna sighed. "As soon as I'm off the ship, hightail it back to Garden and get hold of Edea and Xu. They'll need to know what's going on. With any luck, Squall and the others'll be back from the other world once they realize Elle's not there."

"You seriously expect me to just leave you here?" Kiros frowned.

"Hey, leave it to the genius, remember?" Laguna tried to grin, but it was shaky at best. "It's not like I don't have a plan."

Kiros exchanged an amused glance with Ward. "Hoo, boy…"

"Hey, now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Your plans never did turn out all that well, Laguna. Ward was just having flashbacks, that's all. Can't say it doesn't frighten me, too…"

Laguna scowled. "That's so not fair! Besides, I'm not leavin' Elle."

"That's true. I guess we'll be saving your butt as always, then. Right, Ward?"

The big man grunted his agreement, and Laguna had to admit they had a point. "I'll tell you my idea on the way to the cargo bay, alright?"

"Sure thing. You might want to finish up with Odine, first, though."

"Oh yeah!" Laguna turned back to the viewscreen. "I'll meet your guys at the airstation, Odine, but no tricks. Got it?"

Odine nodded. "Of course. Harming you does me no good."

With that, Laguna cut the transmission and motioned for Kiros and Ward to come with him as he left the bridge. The idea he'd spoken of had only just sprung to mind, but he thought it could work. If Odine had indeed developed his own secret army, as Laguna guessed, then it was likely comprised mainly of mechanized forces given that the human soldiers were fiercely loyal to Laguna. And he had his own scientists on his side, too.

"So what's your plan?" Kiros asked as they hurried through the ship.

"Well, he's got to have some kind of private army that's he's built and kept outta sight, right? But it's not from our forces, because they're all accounted for. So it's mechs, I'm betting, and I think I know from where. Remember why we had so much trouble with 'em when we tried to develop 'em ourselves after the war?"

Kiros' eyes suddenly lit up. "The glitch! Man, you may just have something for once."

"Ha! I knew it! And you remember what that glitch was?"

"The shutdown code. It was only supposed to send the automated forces offline one unit at a time for maintenance, but it always turned the whole force off at once. Still, I'm sure Odine's worked on that by now."

Laguna shook his head. "Not if I know him. Army stuff never was his thing, Kiros. He probably left it to his wackos to figure out, but they don't half have the brains he does. The glitch still oughta be there. All we gotta do is trigger it, with a little something extra."

"What do you mean?"

"I need you to contact Piet as soon as you can and work with him on adding a few extra functions to that glitch. You know, the explosive kind."

Kiros laughed. "I should have figured you'd make it flashy."

"It'll be a lot of fireworks, eh?" Laguna agreed. "And it should help Squall and the others get Elle out when they come for her."

"What about you?"

Laguna paused, just outside the cargo bay door. "Only one problem with that glitch. It's gotta be triggered at close range. So…"

Kiros' smile faded. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah. But if it'll save Elle, then… I don't mind."

"You sure came up with a doozy this time, my man. Raine would kill you if she knew you were gonna do something that crazy."

That would have been just like her, Laguna had to admit. That familiar bittersweet ache in his heart surfaced again as it always did when his wife was mentioned. At least this way, he'd finally be with her again. Where he belonged. He cared about Edea, sure, and maybe he _was_ falling for her a little, but… she would be alright. She'd understand.

Laguna nodded. "Yeah, I know, Kiros. Anyway, looks like we've landed."

A light thud from below told him he was right, and without waiting for a reply, Laguna went into the cargo bay as soon as the doors hissed open. The roar of the _Illumina_'s engines drowned out any hope of further speech as the loading ramp opened and sunlight from the early evening sky crept inside. Early evening? Laguna blinked, then remembered. It was always several hours later here than it was in Fisherman's. Turning briefly back to his friends, Laguna gave them a jaunty little salute and then headed down the ramp without looking back.


	25. The Queen's Chamber

**Chapter 24  
The Queen's Chamber**

At the base of Odin's tower, Gravheine waited.

The last of Odine's men hurried out of the tunnels so recently dug beneath the ruined courtyard. She ignored the Estharians, instead gazing for a moment at the crumbling spire looming above her in the late afternoon sunlight. With its guardian gone, there was no further protection for its secrets, so long ago sealed beneath the earth.

Odin had long protected this crumbling ruin, and it had taken Gravheine many long years to find the means to dispose of him. Almasy had been useful in that regard, never knowing that she had been there on the Lunatic Pandora that day, watching and waiting from the shadows as she always had. A slight touch of her power at just the right moment, and Odin had been vulnerable. Almasy's gunblade had done the rest.

Sometimes the abilities of her people did still come in useful, as they had that day. Had she not retained the abilities of her Centra heritage, Gravheine might not have been able to affect Odin as she had. Even with those powers, it had been a difficult task, for guardians were formidable even in their temporary, physical forms. Normally, if such a form was killed, the guardian itself still lived on and could remanifest itself again later, as there were few things that could harm the energy beings in their native state. Gravheine's whispered incantation, however, had shattered the barrier between Odin's flesh and spirit, leaving both open for Almasy to destroy, and her unknowing puppet had done exactly as she had intended.

The other guardian placed here by the Centra was gone as well, although not dead as Gravheine might have hoped. It served Leonhart and his friends now, but it knew nothing of the chambers beneath the tower, only the compunction to stop anyone who tried to enter it. Hence the tonberries Gravheine had exterminated upon her arrival here. Even with their king gone, they had still followed their instinct to protect the tower, and several of the Estharians had already met bloody fates at the end of their infamous knives.

Those of the excavation team that remained waited off to the side, as per Gravheine's orders. She descended into the tunnels alone, H'soth curled around her arm and tasting the musty air with his forked tongue. Absently stroking his scales as she made her way into the outer chamber, Gravheine focused her thoughts on the task ahead and tried not to think about her conversation with Ellone in Esthar a few hours ago.

It was difficult, for the dying girl's words had stayed with Gravheine more than she would have liked. And a simmering ember of jealousy of Ellone's contact with Atrus. That and the doubts lingering in Gravheine's mind disturbed her. She knew her path, had chosen it long ago, and yet now… now she wondered for the first time if perhaps that might have been a mistake. Atrus would not have wanted this for her, she knew.

Yet to see him again, to hear his voice and feel his arms around her again… Gravheine had worked for so long to that end. Could she really turn aside from her task now that its completion was so near? And with it, the chance to be with him again, even if the world crumbled away around her. She didn't care. She couldn't forsake her path, _wouldn't _forsake it. Not when she was so close to its end.

Shaking off her thoughts, Gravheine paused as the tunnels branched off in a myriad of different directions. Yet another defense that the Centra had placed here, a cunning labyrinth surrounding the burial chamber. The sisters of the Coven had been wise in their caution, but Gravheine had spent centuries, millennia, in searching out and studying the Centra's often cryptic manuscripts, writings that told of the struggle against her Queen. Few of them mentioned Seddhira's chamber specifically, however, and of those that did, only one had spoken of the defenses put in place to keep it from being found. Yet even there, the secrets of the labyrinth had not been disclosed. Gravheine had found another way, however.

The crystal would guide her.

Reaching into her robes with her free hand, Gravheine withdrew the shimmering artifact, its completed form about the size of an apple as she grasped it in her fingers and held it before her. It glowed with a pale, white light that pushed the shadows away. Stepping into the entrance of each tunnel one by one, Gravheine waited for some sign, for the crystal to tell her where to go. She was just stepping into the next to last passageway on the righthand side—there had been about half a dozen in total, and she had gone from left to right when testing them out—when she felt the crystal suddenly warm in her hand. Its light flared just a little brighter than before, and Gravheine went deeper into the tunnel.

So it went, for what must have been hours. At every junction, Gravheine used the crystal to show her where to go. There were many tunnels, so many that even she would have been lost before too long had she attempted this on her own. Gravheine found herself appreciating the Coven's cunning in creating this place. There weren't any traps, because there was no need for them. No one who didn't know exactly where to go would ever get out of here.

As she went, Gravheine marked the way for the Estharian excavation team that would follow. It would take them at least a day, maybe two, to get the sarcophagus out of the burial chamber and through all the passages, many of which twisted and turned upon each other even as they descended deeper and deeper into the earth. The Estharians wouldn't enter the labyrinth, however, until Gravheine had emerged from it herself.

At the end of a particularly long and unbroken tunnel that wound around itself in tight circles as it sloped downward, Gravheine found what she was looking for. The tunnel ended at a wide wall of smoothed stone engraved with Centra writings. In the center of the wall was a fist-sized depression surrounded by etched lines meant to depict rays of light.

Gravheine placed the crystal within the depression, and light from the artifact traced a vertical line both above and below it. Suddenly there was the sound of rock splitting, and stone grinding against stone, as the wall divided in two and swung outward like a pair of thick double doors. The crystal shone brightly as Gravheine took it from where it lay in one half of the depression and slipped it back into her robes.

She went inside, slowly, oddly nervous although she could not have said why. H'soth hissed softly, his thoughts ones of anticipation and excitement. It wasn't often that he lingered outside of the warmth of her robes for very long, yet he had stayed looped loosely around her arm the entire time she had been underground. H'soth wasn't very big, as snakes went—he was only a few feet long from nose to tail—but he didn't need to be. He could kill easily enough just as he was. And like Gravheine, he too had waited a long time for this moment.

The sarcophagus lay before her, a stone coffin adorned with runes and glyphs and sealed shut by more than just age. Only the key would open it, the black materia that held the missing shard of Seddhira's spirit. Gravheine could have opened the sarcophagus here, now that she had that key, but it would be better done in a place more open, a place from where her Queen could more easily extend herself and her power.

Thus, the Sorceress Memorial.

Its highly-developed sealing facilities had been modified by Odine's men to be able to hold the sarcophagus without risking damage to it or to its contents, and to withstand the energies that would pour out when it was finally opened. Gravheine would make sure herself that it was transferred there safely by the excavation team, for she would risk no harm to it.

Gravheine reached out and ran a hand lightly across the cold stone, her eyes closing as she touched the object she had spent thousands of years trying to find. The Centra had hidden it well. Most of the writings that spoke of it had been destroyed, and those few that had survived had been incredibly difficult to find. But Gravheine had not been deterred. She had cheated death, manipulated history, all to this end. There was nothing that would stop her from finishing what she had spent so long working for.

Not even that girl.

----------

"Three days?" Squall scowled. "You sure you can't cut that?"

Kiros sighed and shook his head. He had arrived not half an hour ago, not long after Xu had done the same aboard Balamb Garden. She and Kiros now stood before Squall on the Garden's bridge while Cid, Barret, and the crews from Fisherman's worked on the repairs to the _Shera_. Which, Squall thought with a grimace, looked to take just as long as the preparations for Kiros' crazy rescue plan. Or rather, Laguna's plan.

"Modifying the shutdown code for those mechs is going to take time, Squall. I don't like it any more than you do, but it's our best shot."

Squall frowned. "And in the meantime, Sis is getting put through hell."

"You know we can't just rush in there without a plan for getting her and Laguna out. If you've got any better ideas, I'm open to suggestions."

"Looks like we've got no choice but to wait," Cloud concluded.

He stood to one side of the bridge with Tifa, Yuffie, and Vincent. Squall had invited them to come with him, Rinoa, and Irvine to see the Garden and hear what Kiros had to say. With things the way they were, Squall could use all the friends he could get. And he had to admit, Cloud and Kiros both had a point. It just tore him up inside to know that Sis was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it. Not yet, anyway.

Rinoa nudged him gently. "Don't worry, Squall. We'll save them."

"Yeah…"

Cloud nodded. "We go in, get them, and get out. We'll worry about Gravheine later. Elle seems to be the only one who can finish her, anyway."

"Right," Rinoa agreed. "Her and me, from what Matron said."

"Because you're both sorceresses?" Tifa wondered.

Rinoa shrugged. "I am, but I think Elle's power is different, somehow. She'll finish this, but I've got to be there to help her. I don't know how, though."

"We'll figure that out later," Squall said. "once Sis and Laguna are back safe with us here. We'll be better off taking a single ship to rescue them. With the _Shera_ damaged, our best bet will be the _Ragnarok, _especially if we have to fight our way out."

"How's Laguna plan to set off that glitch?" Cloud wondered.

Kiros held up his wrist. On it was what Squall had first taken to be a watch, but now that he looked at it more closely, he realized it was much more than that. Kiros explained. "These things are one of the newest gadgets Piet's come up with. Aside from telling time, there's a built-in locator signal and a limited communications array. There's also a small, short-range transmitter for activating nearby devices. So far, only Laguna, Ward, and I have these guys. They're prototypes that we had made just in case something like this ever happened. We've never really trusted Odine that much, you see."

"No kidding."

"Anyway, I'm betting that Laguna's gonna reprogram his wristpad to activate the glitch when he touches the right button—it's not really that hard, even for him. I like to rag on him a lot, but he really is pretty smart. Most of the time, anyway."

Squall folded his arms. "You sure it's only close-range?"

"Yeah…" Kiros sighed.

"Damn. You know we've got to find another way."

Kiros shook his head. "There's no time. Just leave him to me and Ward, Squall. You guys concentrate on getting Elle out of there."

Wondering just what Kiros meant by that, Squall shrugged and nodded. It wasn't as though he had any other choice, really. He could understand Laguna's desire to save Ellone, even if it meant giving his life to do so, but… Squall realized he didn't want that to happen. It was still a bit awkward, sometimes, dealing with Laguna… his father. Come to think of it, it was still hard for Squall to believe that he and that sheepish clown of a man actually shared the same blood. Maybe Laguna wasn't as much of a moron as Squall had once believed, but… Hyne knew it wasn't easy dealing with a father he had only come to know over the past few years. Still, how could he let him disappear from his life again now that he'd found him?

Squall might not have felt the need to get to know the man at all but for Rinoa's gentle insistence. She could be damnably persuasive when she wanted to be, but she also understood to some extent Squall's uncertainty. Her relationship with her own father wasn't exactly on the best of terms, either, although it had gotten a little better after the war. But it had been mostly Sis that had worked to bring Squall and Laguna closer together, naturally. They were family, the three of them—at least, that was what Ellone believed, and so did Laguna.

Squall had no doubts about Ellone being family—she was his big sister, always had been—but accepting Laguna as a part of his family was a somewhat more difficult adjustment. Now that he was faced with the possibility of losing him, however, Squall realized that he didn't want to. Not when he had just started to get to know him a little.

"Alright," Squall nodded. "We'll be ready."

----------

Laguna watched helplessly from the upstairs lab as, in her cell just on the other side of the observation windows, Ellone twitched and lay still after her latest session in Odine's testing chamber. Or torture chamber, as Laguna thought of it. Odine had forced him to watch the whole thing since coming here. He'd seen it all through one of those two-way mirrors he'd heard about but never used, and it was taking every bit of his self-restraint not to leap up and strangle the little cockroach, armed guards or no armed guards.

The guards were some of the experimental mechanized infantry, just as Laguna had suspected. So far, so good. Now all he needed was just a few moments to reprogram his wristpad—Odine hadn't guessed at what it was, since it looked like nothing more than an ordinary watch with a few of the usual bits of Estharian technology added to it—they were fairly common in the city, if a little expensive. It had been Kiros' idea to make the wristpads as inconspicuous as possible, in case something like this ever happened.

They were still prototypes, but they had worked well enough so far. Laguna was sure the built-in transmitter array would do its job and send the shutdown code when he told it to. Whether the mechs would blow up all at once or one by one in a chain reaction, he wasn't sure, and he supposed it didn't really matter as long as they went off. Laguna knew Odine wasn't stupid enough to rely on the mechs alone, but blowing them up would at least cripple his forces and give Elle a chance to escape when Squall and the others came for her.

"Enjoying ze show?" Odine gloated.

"Hardly. I didn't know you were such a sadist."

Odine sniffed. "I am a scientist! And ze new ruler of Esthar! But of course, I have no interest in running a nation. So I vill let you handle zat vile I continue my research, unhindered by your preposterous demands!"

"I wouldn't get too comfortable just yet, man. Things could get pretty hot, you know."

"Vat do you mean by zat?"

Laguna shrugged. "Nothin'. But I ain't about to help a weasel like you, so you can forget it. I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago."

"But you didn't!" Odine cackled, "and now _I_ am in control!"

He bounced off to confer with one of his assistants, and while they pored over the date streaming by on one of the computer monitors that lined the far wall, Laguna tapped a few keys on his wristpad as casually as he could. Setting up the transmitter wasn't all that hard, just a small adjustment here and a tweak there, but he had to make sure that it would be able to receive the modified shutdown code as soon as Kiros sent it. That wouldn't be until the rescue was well underway, but Laguna wasn't about to take any chances. He'd at least learned a few things from being married to Raine, a little prudence being one of them.

As he finished reprogramming the wristpad, Laguna let his arms drop to his sides as his eyes wandered through the windows to the unconscious form of his daughter in the cell below. She was in pain—Laguna had seen that already, what with the things Odine was putting her through, needles and electrodes and other stuff Laguna didn't even want to think about. Elle's face was drawn, haggard, and her skin was pale. Odine's assistants left her some food every few hours, but it wasn't much. Laguna hated seeing her like this, and only the knowledge that his son and his friends were coming soon to save her gave him comfort.

_Hold on, Elle,_ Laguna reassured her, his fingers touching the glass. _We're gonna get you outta here. Help's comin', okay? Just hold on._

----------

Pausing outside the Garden's infirmary for a moment, Tifa glanced nervously at Cloud. He nodded reassuringly and gave her one of his little smiles, but she could tell he felt the same flicker of anxiety. Not that he and Tifa didn't trust the word of their new friends—Rinoa was even now just behind them, having shown them the way here while Squall was busy with getting the Garden ready for the battles it would no doubt see in the days to come.

Tifa knew that once Elle was rescued and recuperated, she would insist on returning right back to Esthar to finish all of this and stop Gravheine. It's what Tifa herself would have done, and she was going to do what she could to help her friend. Just as the others were. Squall and Rinoa had told her and the others about the attack on Garden some two weeks ago now and the lives that it had claimed, close friends lost. It was a pain Tifa, Cloud, and the rest of her old friends knew all too well. Aerith, Dyne, and Shalua were just a few of the losses they had known over the years. Tifa hoped there would be no more.

But that wasn't why Tifa had stopped to compose herself. No, what was on her mind most was her baby. Rinoa had said that this Dr. Kadowaki was better than half the doctors in Esthar and Deling City with all their fancy offices and equipment. It reassured Tifa a little to know that Rinoa and Squall trusted this doctor, but even so… what could she do about the Jenova cells threatening the baby, something she couldn't possibly know about? Tifa had no doubt the woman would try her best, but would it be enough?

Shaking off her doubts, Tifa stepped inside the infirmary as the doors slid open with a soft hiss. Rather than the sterile, austere place she had imagined, Tifa was struck with the warmth of the place. It was spotlessly clean, of course, but the lights were softer than she had expected, bright but not overly so. And the woman who rose to meet them from behind her desk was slightly plump, dark-haired, and covered with a kindly, if somewhat stern, smile. Tifa guessed that Dr. Kadowaki wasn't one to tolerate any nonsense about her treatments but at the same time offered a surprisingly warm bedside manner.

"Ah, you must be the ones Squall was telling me about," Kadowaki said.

Tifa nodded. "That's right. I'm Tifa, and this is Cloud."

She motioned to her husband, who tilted his head toward the doctor before folding his arms expectantly. "Good to meet you. Squall said you could help us?"

"Well, that depends on what it is," Kadowaki said. "Care to explain?"

Tifa did so. "We're having a baby, but… I'm afraid there might be some complications. I've miscarried twice, both of my previous pregnancies."

"I see. Conventional treatments didn't work, I take it."

"No. It's not that I was sick or anything, it's… well, it's hard to explain."

Cloud sighed. "It's my fault. I was… injected… with alien cells years ago, against my will, and they're still there. They get passed on and… kill the baby…"

"You're just like Squall," Kadowaki reprimanded him, "always piling everything on yourself. It's not like you meant for this to happen. So I'd suggest you straighten yourself out, mister, and quit making yourself responsible for things you don't have one whit of control over. Brooding over this isn't going to help you or your wife."

"Yes, ma'am," Cloud blinked. Tifa stifled a giggle.

Turning to her, Kadowaki went on. "Now come with me and I'll take a look at you and the baby. We'll nab this thing, whatever it is. So don't worry, okay?"

"Thank you," Tifa smiled.

----------

Quistis paused with Seifer at the base of the ladder leading up to the inside of the Memorial Arch and listened. She heard soft muttering, just as she thought she might. It didn't sound like there were that many soldiers there, fortunately, and as she shared a nod with Seifer, Quistis knew he had come to the same conclusion.

"Two or three at most, I'm betting," he said softly.

Quistis nodded. "We'll have to be quick. You _do_ remember how to fight unarmed, right?"

"Of course I do. You've pulled me and Squall apart enough times over the years to know that. I can handle a few Galbadian thugs."

"So can I. Just thought I'd check."

Seifer smirked. "I'm touched by your concern, Quis. Ready?"

"Whenever you are, Seifer. You'd better go up first. I'll be right behind you."

He climbed onto the ladder, going up the first few rungs but no further just yet. Quistis moved so she was right below him and grasped the sides of the ladder. He looked down at her over his shoulder, and she met his gaze, thinking for a moment of the kiss they had shared. Had that really happened? It seemed almost like a daydream, but it had been real. Quistis didn't understand how or why she had fallen for Seifer, or why he seemed to have fallen for her, but maybe it didn't really matter. It made an ironic sort of sense, she supposed, the two of them being together. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Allowing herself to give Seifer a small, encouraging smile, Quistis nodded and let go of the ladder for a moment to hold up her hand for him to see. She curled her thumb and pinkie underneath and stretched out the other three fingers in a silent countdown. Taking a long, deep breath and slowly releasing it, Quistis flashed her signal up to Seifer, folding her fingers down one after the other until they were all curled into a fist and mouthing the numbers as she did so, followed by a single, commanding imperative.

_Three… two… one… go!_

Seifer shot up the ladder and through the opening, eliciting shouts of surprise from the guards in the room above. Quistis followed half a second later, springing nimbly through the opening and rolling easily to her feet as one of the guards—they were Galbadian troops, alright, but dressed in black rather than the usual blue or red—rushed at her.

Ducking under the arc of his steel katana, Quistis slammed her fist into his gut. Although the man's combat vest absorbed most of the blow, he still staggered slightly, just enough to knock him off balance. Quistis let fly with a volley of punches to his chest, then took him by the arm and threw him into the wall while Seifer smashed another guard in the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. He didn't get up.

The third guard charged almost at the same moment, but Seifer caught him easily, hammered him with a vicious jab to the solar plexus, and sent him staggering toward Quistis. She spun and backhanded the man across the face, and he dropped like a dead weight as Quistis stood in place for a moment, her arm still out and her heart beating furiously with excitement and adrenaline. It had been a long time since she had fought barehanded.

"Heh, we make a pretty good team," Seifer grinned.

Quistis smiled as she finally relaxed. "Yeah, I suppose we do, don't we?"

Seifer pointed to the far corner of the room. "Looks like you were right, Quis. There's our gear. Let's get it and get goin', shall we?"

He was right. Stashed on a rack was both his gunblade and Quistis' whip. She took her weapon with a sigh of relief and noted that Seifer did the same with his. It felt good to have Save The Queen back in her hands. She snapped it around experimentally a few times, satisfied at the thunderous crack of sound it made with each expert flick of her wrist, and once she was finished, she turned to Seifer, who was making a few slashes in the air with his gunblade. Testing it out just as she had her weapon, no doubt.

"Let's go," Quistis said.

She led the way outside, with Seifer just behind her, and as she had suspected, they emerged right beneath the towering Memorial Archway. Looking down the road to her right, Quistis saw the sprawling, gated marble structure that was the presidential palace. Hanging her whip from her belt, Quistis narrowed her eyes as Seifer stood beside her, his gunblade tucked into his coat. Good. Better that they get to the palace with as little commotion as possible.

Seifer eyed the place warily. "Any idea how we're supposed to get in there?"

"Back when the sorceress had her parade, Squall and Irvine found a side entrance from the roof. He told me about it later. I'm pretty sure I remember how to get there."

"Good enough, then. You ready?"

Quistis nodded. "Let's go, Seifer. It's time to finish this."

----------

Cloud braced himself for the news. "Well, doc?"

"I've done some preliminary tests," Dr. Kadowaki said, "and there _are_ trace amounts of the alien cells within the baby. In an adult or even a child, the cells would pose no harm. But to an unborn baby whose immune system is still developing, they would indeed be fatal. From what Tifa's told me, both of her previous miscarriages happened before the third trimester. It seems that as the baby grows, the alien cells do too, and at a faster rate."

"That's why she miscarried before?"

Kadowaki nodded. "I think so. The alien cells don't seem to be all that active, but even in their inert state, they can be dangerous to someone so young. The alien matter seems to feed off of the baby's tissues even as it outgrows them, until the baby dies and forces a miscarriage. That kills the alien cells, too, but by then it's too late."

Cloud sighed. "Can you save the baby?"

"I'll do everything I can, Cloud. You're lucky I have some experience with xenobiology and microbiology and other, less traditional forms of medicine than you'll find in any old doctor's office. Comes in handy when you've got to treat these SeeD cadets for everything from malboro poison to bite bug stings."

While he was relieved that this Dr. Kadowaki wasn't as totally baffled by the Jenova cells as he and Tifa had feared, Cloud worried that even her expertise might not be enough. Still, he didn't have any choice now but to trust her, and from what Squall and the others had told him, there was no one else better able to help Tifa and the baby than her.

Cloud nodded. "Alright. Thanks, doc."

"You're welcome. If you want to see your wife, she's in the third room on the left. I wouldn't let her go with you when you go to save Ellone, though."

"What?"

Kadowaki placed her hands on her hips, but her reprimand was a gentle one. "She's in my care for the time being, and the baby's already in enough danger as it is. As a physician, my first responsibility is to the health of my patients, and sending Tifa out into battle with that baby inside her, even as early on as it is, still goes against what I'm here for."

"You're sure about this?" Cloud asked.

"I can't very well help her and the baby if they aren't here, you know."

She did have a point there. And to be honest, Cloud felt a lot better knowing that the baby was going to be out of the line of fire, at least for the time being. No doubt Tifa would protest, but Cloud figured he could handle that. And besides, with Squall and Cid and the others, they had more than enough people to go in and get Ellone and Laguna out of Esthar and still leave Tifa and the baby here under Dr. Kadowaki's supervision.

Cloud relaxed a little. "Okay. Just take good care of them for me, alright?"

"I will, Cloud," Kadowaki smiled reassuringly. "I promise."


	26. Galbadia

**Chapter 25  
Galbadia**

Zell eyed the guards warily as he and Sara approached the gates to the presidential palace. There were half a dozen of them, all armed and all in those odd black uniforms. Astasia's troops, no doubt, as Zell hadn't seen any of the usual blue-garbed soldiers ever since this whole mess began. How that woman had built up her own army without Caraway noticing was something Zell wondered about, but with the fragile peace and underlying tensions that had simmered here since the war, he supposed it was possible that many of the soldiers had been swayed to Astasia's side and merely swapped out their uniforms when she had finally seized power.

Still, from what Rinoa had told him and from what Sara had also said, Caraway had always been popular among his troops and had had a large amount of support when he'd reluctantly accepted the nomination for Galbadia's next president. Zell didn't know him too well, had only met him a handful of times over the past few years, but he had always seemed more a soldier than a politician. Honest, yes, but maybe some of his subordinates had not been, which would explain the swiftness of Astasia's takeover.

With luck, Caraway was alright, and once Astasia was dealt with, he would be able to take back his rightful place as Galbadia's leader and help get things straightened out over here. He was probably still under house arrest in his personal estate, from what Sara had said. Zell trusted her, both because he loved her and because this was her hometown and she knew it a lot better than he did. He only wished that Squall and the others were here with them.

One of the guards moved up to block the gate as Zell and Sara approached. "Halt! What's your business here?"

"I want to see Astasia," Sara demanded quietly.

"Sorry, no one's allowed— oh, wait… you're her daughter. My apologies."

She nodded. "Let us in, then."

"I'm afraid your guest will have to wait here," the soldier said.

"I'll take responsibility for him. He's a friend."

The soldier looked at Zell for a moment, noting the arm he had around Sara's waist. "More than a friend, I'd guess, eh? Alright, go ahead."

He motioned to one of the other soldiers, who pressed a few buttons on a nearby keypad. The gates swung open, and the soldier barring Zell and Sara's path moved aside. Zell tried to act as casual as he could while he and Sara walked into the compound, but he couldn't help feeling more than a little tense.

"That was easy…" Zell murmured once the guards were out of earshot.

Sara frowned. "Yeah. I don't like it."

"Me either. Gotta keep goin' though. Right?"

"Yeah. Just follow my lead, okay? There'll be more guards inside, but as long as we act like nothing's wrong, they should leave us alone. I suppose that's one good thing about being Astasia's stepdaughter. Her people know who I am, so me being here won't seem so unusual, even though you're with me."

Zell frowned. "What about your guns? Won't they set off security?"

"They're not ordinary, Zell—I've made some adjustments of my own to them, including a small masking field to keep them from being noticed by scanners."

"You do this a lot?"

Sara grinned humorlessly as she and Zell crossed the courtyard. "I've done a few covert ops for Headmaster Martine, yes. So don't worry, we'll be fine."

It looked like she was right, Zell saw, for the guards at the doors let them in without incident, and although Zell was sure they'd have trouble at the security checkpoint just inside, nothing happened. He didn't know whether to be troubled or relieved. Perhaps both. Of course, the real challenge would be in getting out.

They passed through the palace without being stopped and without stopping themselves, for Sara seemed to know the way. She guided Zell wordlessly through the vaulted halls until he stood with her just outside Astasia's office. Two more guards stood on either side of the double doors, and upon seeing Sara and relaying that via a wall intercom to Astasia, they opened the doors and motioned brusquely for Zell and Sara to go inside.

They did so, and Zell let go of Sara to stand beside her as he looked for the first time at Astasia Deling. Her long, dark hair streaked with silver, she looked at him and Sara with chilly blue eyes as she rose from behind her desk. She motioned once toward the doors with her hand, and they abruptly swung shut on their own.

"It's good to see you again, Sara," she smiled coldly. "I've been waiting for you."

----------

Seifer ducked into the alley, Quistis at his side, as the guards walked past. So far, so good. He and Quistis had made it to the palace and had worked their way around to the side of the complex. No one had noticed them yet, and hopefully it would stay that way. Seifer didn't want to make a ruckus until they'd dealt with whoever was in charge here. From the talk of the guards that he'd overheard, that was someone named Astasia Deling. Was she Vinzer's widow? Seifer guessed that might have been it, and a nod from Quistis had shown that she had come to the same conclusion. Wonderful.

"So where's this side entrance of yours?" Seifer asked.

Quistis pointed to the high fence surrounding the compound. "It's this way. Squall and Irvine got in through the main gate, but there's one on the side as well. It should be less heavily guarded, and once we're inside, we'll climb up to the roof and drop in on Astasia from above."

"Sounds good, Quis. Let's get to it, then."

She nodded, and Seifer followed her out of the alley and toward the side entrance to the palace complex. He hadn't been here since following the sorceress years ago, and he hoped to get this mission over quickly and be out of here before too many unpleasant memories came back for a visit. There were some things he didn't like to remember.

Sure enough, there were only two guards at the side gate, as opposed to the six stationed at the main entrance. Although alert, they were armed only with their polished katanas—those seemed to be their preferred weapons rather than the heavy broadswords that normal Galbadian troops favored. Seifer wondered where this Astasia had managed to build her little army, than realized that there was really only one place where they wouldn't have been noticed, a place that had been abanonded ever since the war.

Seifer murmured to Quistis, "I think these guys game from D-District."

"The prison? It's possible, I suppose. Everyone in there got full pardons after the war, and the place was closed down. Supposedly, anyway."

"Looks like somebody found another use for it."

Quistis nodded. "We'll figure it out later. Let's get this business done with first."

Not wasting another moment, Seifer whipped out his gunblade and rushed at the two guards, Quistis at his side with her whip unfurled. The two men spun to greet them, katanas raised, a little faster than Seifer had anticipated. He ducked beneath a swinging blade and slashed his own around in an upward backhand slash that would have cut the guard open had he not parried at the last moment. These guys weren't the fools that their counterparts in the archway had been. They knew how to fight.

A loud crack told Seifer that Quistis had engaged the other guard, and another crack stung the man's hand before he could touch the control panel near the gate. Quistis snapped her whip right at it, reducing it to a smoking mass of sparks and frayed wires and disabling the alarm that would have surely gone up. Seifer followed suit, dodging another katana swipe and firing a bullet from Hyperion up at a nearby surveillance camera. It exploded almost instantly, but Seifer ignored it as he focused on helping Quistis overcome the guards.

Although they wore metal breastplates and shin guards like normal Galbadian troops, these guys moved a lot faster, completely at ease with their weapons. Even so, Seifer was no inexperienced swordsman himself, and he had learned from his battles with Squall to be patient and not let his aggression lure him into an unfavorable position. So he parried his opponent's blows as they came at him and waited for the opening to come as he knew it would.

A moment later, it did.

The guard spun around, slashing at waist level as though to disembowel Seifer, but he saw the attack coming, parried the blow, and shoved the katana away long enough for him to plant a booted foot squarely in the man's chest. The guard doubled over even as he flew backwards, and Seifer lunged forward, plunged the gunblade into his chest, and pulled the trigger. There was a muffled explosion as at the same time, Quistis' whip cracked again, this time against the side of the other guard's head. He stumbled away as Seifer ripped Hyperion from the first guard's chest and fired at him. Caught between the gunblade's bullets and the sting of Quistis' whip acoss his face, the second guard crumpled almost at once.

Pausing to clean Hyperion on one of the fallen guards' uniforms, Seifer glanced warily around the side street. "Better hurry, Quis. We don't have much time before security figures out what we did over here. I'd like to be inside before that happens."

"Right," she agreed. "The ladder's this way."

She was just heading inside the gate when Seifer noticed the blood on her leg, a slash of red across her thigh. He pulled her aside for a moment. "You alright?

"I'm fine. That guard just got lucky, that's all."

"We don't have any potions, remember? Hang on, I'll find something."

He went back to the downed guards, making sure no one was on the street—it was night, and although it wasn't all that late yet, most traffic in this area went down the main road rather than here—and dragged the bodies into the alley he and Quistis had come from. After tearing a thick strip of cloth from one of their uniforms, Seifer hurried back to the gate and tied it around Quistis's leg as tightly as he could.

She winced at the pain but managed a small, terse smile nonetheless. "Thanks."

"Just be a little more careful, eh? I don't fancy finishing this mission all by myself, you know. And we still have things to do once we get back to Garden."

"Yes, Mother," Quistis snickered.

Seifer opened his mouth to fire back at her, then thought better of it. He loved their verbal sparring, but now wasn't the time. And that cut didn't look so good. Hopefully it hadn't gone too deep, but Seifer was no expert on such things. He only hoped he could find her some potions or something before her leg got any worse.

----------

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Squall frowned.

Xu pushed a few strands of her short, auburn hair from her face and sighed. "Exactly what I said. Lily's not in her holding cell."

His arms folded in front of him as he looked out across the sea and Fisherman's Horizon from the bridge of the Garden, Squall grimaced. He didn't need this. There were enough problems going on here as it was, and now disappearing students? How had Lily, as quiet and unassuming a person as he'd ever known, gotten caught up in this mess?

"When was she last seen?" Squall asked.

"Just before the second attack and the attempt on Matron's life. Lily was gone by the time it was over. I'd have told you sooner, but you were over in the other world for a while and I couldn't reach you. No one even realized she had disappeared until I went back into the disciplinary block to see about questioning her some more."

So she had gone missing at about the same time Mark Denham had tried to kill Matron. Squall found that an odd coincidence, one he didn't much like. That woman, Gravheine, had to have been behind it, but what could she possibly have wanted with Lily? It didn't make any sense. Except maybe to use her to get to someone else. Zell, naturally, and if the Galbadia team had escaped the ambush in Dollet—and Squall wasn't going to believe otherwise until he saw proof to the contrary—then they might cause her trouble over there.

Squall straightened. "Gravheine took her, I think. Have we been able to make any contact with Zell and the others in Galbadia?"

"Not yet. You think that woman knows about them?"

"We have to assume she does," Squall answered. "I don't know what she's planning over there, but it seems like Lily's a part of it somehow."

Xu nodded. "That would definitely set Zell off, for sure."

"Which, knowing him, could disrupt the mission. And with things the way they are over there now, that could get ugly."

"You mean with Caraway being forced to step down?"

Squall narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. Happened damned fast, if you ask me."

"I heard about it on the news, but you know we can't trust the Galbadian media. Especially now that Deling's widow is running things."

Although he hadn't known the infamous Vinzer Deling hardly at all, Squall could imagine what must be going on in Galbadia now. Rinoa had never bothered to hide her dislike of the man during the few times she spoke of him, and with Galbadia being her birthplace, Squall could certainly understand why. He hadn't known that Deling had ever been married, though, not until recently. And now the man's wife was in charge over there. Another unpleasant coincidence. Or maybe not coincidence at all, if Squall was right in his suspicions.

"You think this Astasia knows Gravheine somehow?"

"I wouldn't put it past her," Xu agreed. "It would explain how she was able to take over so quickly, and from out of nowhere like that."

Squall thought so, too. "Keep trying to reach our people over there."

"When are we going after them?"

"You and Irvine take a few of our new friends over there on the _Illumina_ and get Zell and the others out while the rest of us go after Ellone and Laguna."

Xu nodded. "We'll do that."

----------

"What the hell?" Zell stared. "How did you…?"

"Oh, you mean the doors," Astasia shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Just one of many things I can do, young man. More than you know."

Sara's eyes hardened. "You're a sorceress, aren't you?"

Astasia's small, knowing smirk was all the answer Zell needed. Vinzer Deling's widow was a sorceress? It was obvious that Sara had known this no more than Zell had, although she hid her surprise better. That Astasia was a sorceress changed things drastically. No wonder getting in here had been so easy. Zell grimaced and thought he understood what a mouse must feel like as it's scrutinized by a hungry cat.

"Admittedly, my power isn't that strong," Astasia answered. "The sorceress I inherited it from as a girl wasn't as powerful as Heartilly or your precious headmistress. But I've found my abilities useful now and again."

She swept her hand out before her, and suddenly Zell flew backward into the wall along with Sara, hurled by an unseen force that slammed into his chest like a fist. Sara was whipping out her guns even as she rose, and Zell had his own fists clenched and ready. He remembered how tough Adel and Ultimecia had been to fight, and he hoped Astasia hadn't been lying when she had said her powers weren't very great.

Sara fired, both handguns blazing simultaneously, but Astasia merely thrust out her hand and the bullets stuck a curving blue energy field that shimmered into momentarily life before fading away again in the next moment. There was a patter on the carpet as the bullets fell harmlessly to the floor. Zell was in motion, sweeping one fist high and one low, but again that invisible fist slammed into him and he staggered back.

"Damn…" he swore.

It was a spacious office, although it was the last place Zell would have thought he'd get into a fight. But that's what he had come here for, hadn't he? Sara pulled him to his feet and eyed her stepmother warily, not lowering her guns but not firing again either. Not yet, anyway. She and Zell both knew that right now, it wouldn't do any good.

Astasia's hawklike gaze swept over them. "Try and fight me, if you like. It won't do much good. The guards won't let you out, either, so don't bother trying to escape. You see, I knew you would come. I could have had my forces stop you, but I wanted to deal with you myself. Especially you, Sara. Have you told your friend here about yourself?"

"Yes," Sara answered, "He knows everything, Astasia."

"Not quite. Oh, I'm sure you told him about your father and that pony-tailed cowboy you used to be so obsessed with, but there's one thing he doesn't know. Zell, is it? I have someone here that you care about very much. Would you like to know who it is?"

Zell blinked. "What? Who?"

In answer, Astasia pressed a button on her desk and spoke into an intercom. "Please bring our guest inside, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am," a guard's voice answered promptly.

Zell exchanged an uneasy glance with Sara, not sure what Astasia was up to and not liking it much, either. Sara's emerald eyes mirrored Zell's own feelings, and suddenly he thought that perhaps the two of them had made a mistake in coming here. As the doors to Astasia's office swung open once again, however, Zell's thoughts slipped away in an instant when he saw who the guards pushed roughly inside.

"Lily!" Zell exclaimed, his eyes widening.

----------

Taking the hand Seifer offered her, Quistis hopped off the ladder and slid onto the curving ledge than ran along the side of the palace roof. There was an entrance here somewhere, from what Squall had mentioned, but where was it? Through a window, wasn't it? Or a skylight, maybe? Quistis thought that might have been it.

"So we'll get the jump on her, then, eh?" Seifer mused, following Quistis along the ledge. "This ought to be fun."

"Do you see any way to get inside?" Quistis asked.

Seifer shook his head. "Not from here. Maybe farther down."

"Let's hurry on, then. Something tells me we don't have much time."

She hopped up onto the roof, not quite sure where she was going but unable to deny what her intuition was telling her. Careful not to alert the guards patrolling in the courtyard below, she moved stealthily across the sloping stone until at last she spotted what she was looking for. Quistis paused and pointed it out to Seifer, who was close by.

He nodded. "I see it. Any idea what's below it?"

"We'll have to get closer to find out," Quistis whispered.

Moving more slowly, she did just that, kneeling at the edge of the skylight and peering down inside. It was an office, a rather large one at that, and in it stood a middle-aged woman with graying hair. She looked almost like Matron, but with a harsh, cruel air about her that Edea did not have. The woman exuded power, though, and Quistis knew that this woman was Astasia Deling. But when she saw who she was talking to, Quistis froze, grabbing Seifer's arm and squeezing it tight to steady herself even as relief swept through her.

"Seifer!" she hissed. "You see them?"

"Yeah. I knew they'd be okay. Chicken-wuss ain't gonna die that easy. But what the hell's that pigtail chick doin' here?"

Quistis sighed. "I don't know. But they need our help."

"You gonna just… jump?"

"Have you got any better ideas?"

Seifer shrugged. "Not off the top of my head, no."

"Then follow my lead."

----------

Zell blinked. "What the… what are you doin' here, Lily?"

She flew into his arms the moment the guards released her, hardly aware of anything else as the office doors swung shut once more. "Oh, Zell! I… I came here to help you, but… it was what Astasia wanted all along…"

"How'd you get here?"

"A… a woman brought me. She said I'd be able to help you, but she was just using me. I… I was so stupid, Zell, but I didn't want to lose you like I lost Mark…"

Zell stared. What was going on here? Did she mean that Denham kid? He was dead? How? And who was this woman that had brought Lily here? Questions whirled around in Zell's mind, but he had no answers for them. They would have to wait.

He turned to Astasia. "What the hell's goin' on?"

"More than you know. But I can't have you getting in my way, not when my control of Galbadia is all but complete. All that remains is the Garden."

"Galbadia Garden?" Sara growled. "Just try and take it, bitch."

Astasia sneered. "My forces are en route even as we speak. I realize it was your home for some time, but it must be secured."

"We'll stop you."

"Oh, by all means, try."

Sara snarled and fired even as Zell pushed Lily aside and went at Astasia, fists flying. She blocked the bullets but wasn't able to recover before Zell smashed a pair of vicious punches into her ribs. Astasia staggered, blocked the uppercut that Zell threw at her, and sent a small shock of lightning out from her palm to slam into his chest. He stumbled but stayed on his feet, lashing out with a high roundhouse kick as Sara dove to the left and fired again.

Moving with uncanny speed, Astasia ducked under Zell's kick and shoved both her hands against him, hitting him with a larger shock this time as she twisted away from Sara's gunfire at the last second. Zell flew back, crashing to the floor with a muffled thump and a groan. He managed to get to knee before Astasia was in his face, electricity sweeping over him even as sparks of it lashed out from her other arm to hurl Sara against the far wall. Another shot, and the bookcases there tumbled over on top of her.

"Sara!" Zell roared.

He struggled to move, but Astasia's energy ripped into him, scorching and burning. Zell screamed, a mixture of pain and rage, as Astasia lifted him high, her hand stretched out as an invisible clamp tightened around his throat. More lightning enveloped him from her other hand as she watched triumphantly, and although Zell pulled frantically at unseen force holding him, he couldn't free himself. He was trapped.

Suddenly the sound of shattering glass filled the air as something, or rather someone, crashed through the wide skylight spanning the ceiling. Zell tumbled to the floor as Astasia flung him aside to face the newcomer, surprise etched on her face. Then there was the all-too familiar crack of a whip, its barbed tail catching Astasia across the jaw, spinning her around and sending her sprawling onto her stomach. She flipped over almost instantly, only to find herself staring at the tip of a gunblade pressed to her throat.

Zell's jaw dropped. "Seifer! Quistis! You're alive!"

"Tch!" Seifer snickered. "You think a few potshots from some Galbadian tugboats are gonna do me in, blondie? I ain't about to die just yet!"

"Are you alright, Zell?" Quistis asked, helping him up.

He nodded. "A little cooked, but I think I'll be okay. Man, I thought—oh shit! Sara!"

Panic seized him as he dove toward where she had fallen. Sara groaned, half-buried in an avalanche of leatherbound books that had once stood in stately rows upon the massive oak bookshelves that now lay on top of her like so much broken kindling. Sara was facedown but conscious, struggling to extricate herself from the debris. Zell shoved the bookcases off of her with a grunt and helped her get to her feet.

She wiped at the line of blood running down the side of her face. "It's not so bad, really. I'm fine, Zell. Just a little shaken up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm su— Instructor! Seifer! You're here!"

Quistis nodded. "Just in time, it would seem. I'm glad you're both okay."

An unpleasant idea suddenly occurred to Zell. "Yo, we oughta barricade the door. No knowin' when those guards might come stormin' in here, especially now that we've got Astasia cornered. Don't want her callin' any backup, right?"

"Not bad, Zell," Seifer smirked. "For once."

Quistis deftly snapped her whip so it lashed around Astasia's neck. "Go help Zell move the desk in front of the door, Seifer. I'll watch our captive."

To Zell's surprise, Seifer didn't offer any of his usual snide remarks to her but simply nodded and took one end of the desk. What had the two of them been up to? Zell guessed it didn't matter, as long as it meant that Seifer wasn't going to do anything stupid. Taking his end of the desk, Zell heaved it over to the door while Lily scooted out of the way, nervously eyeing Astasia, who sat against the far wall, seething.

"Yo, Quistis," Zell said, "be careful, okay? She's a sorceress."

Quistis blinked. "What?"

"He's right," Sara added. "Astasia's not as powerful as Rinoa or Matron Edea, but she's still dangerous. Don't take your eyes off her."

She retrieved her guns as she spoke, slipping fresh clips into each one while Zell joined her and dabbed at her wound with a cloth that Lily had found for him from the executive washroom that was off to one side of the office. It was odd, having both girls so close by, and Zell wasn't sure what to feel. He loved Sara, but there was a part of him that would always love Lily, too. After all, he had almost married her.

Suddenly there was a loud thump against the door as something rammed into it, and a moment later, alarms blared throughout the palace. The thumping continued, and Zell realized the guards were trying to break the door down. They must have heard Quistis and Seifer's entrance and assumed the worst. At least the desk would hold them for a little while, but even so, time wasn't something Zell and the others could lose.

"So how the hell do we get outta he—" Seifer began.

A cry from Quistis cut him off as Astasia threw her back with a blast of lightning and pulled the whip from around her neck. Leaping to her feet, Astasia swept an arc of crackling energy around her that hurled Zell and everyone else to the floor long enough for her to grab Quistis from behind and clamp an arm around her neck.

Astasia smiled coldly. "It looks like you'll be the first to die, Trepe…"

Grimacing against the pain, Zell struggled to get up, but Seifer was faster. His gunblade went into Astasia's back without hesitation. "I wouldn't count on it, lady."

"Fool!" she hissed, dropping Quistis and kicking Seifer and his gunblade off of her. Blood coated her formerly spotless blouse and leaked out from the side of her mouth as she staggered away toward where the bookcases had been. Bullets ripped into her shoulder as Sara fired, and Zell was just bringing up his fists when Astasia hit a nearby panel and a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a hidden passage. "I'll deal with you later, but before I go…"

She whirled around faster than Zell would have expected, taking something from the front of her blouse and throwing it right at him. A knife. There was no time to get out of the way, however, as it flew through the air in less than a heartbeat almost in the same instant Zell realized what it was and what Astasia was doing. But just before it would have it him, Lily was there, whirling around to shield him as the knife sank into her back.

"Z-Zell…"

"_LILY!"_

Zell was hardly aware of Astasia crumpling under Sara's gunfire, the snap of Quistis' whip, and a pair of vicious cuts from Seifer's gunblade. All Zell knew or cared about in that moment was Lily. Lily, who had saved him. Lily, who he had always loved, and whose blood was seeping out between his fingers as he held her. Lily, who was dying.

She touched her lips lightly to his, the life leaving her eyes as the breath left her body. "I've always… loved you… Zell…"

"You know I did, too," he whispered, but she could no longer hear him.

----------

Sara held up a hand to tell Seifer and Quistis to hold up. They did so, not knowing exactly why but not arguing with the dark expression on her face. They didn't know her relationship to Astasia, but right now even that didn't matter. Sara was awash in conflicting emotions. On the one hand, her blood burned with rage at how her stepmother had just done to Zell, who was still cradling Lily's body in his arms. The love he still had for her was evident even to Sara, and while she knew she ought not to have been surprised—she herself, as she had earlier admitted, still had feelings for Irvine despite all that had happened—it still stirred within her an ember of jealousy. Even if it was hopelessly out of place.

Shaking off her thoughts, Sara walked slowly to where Astasia lay, half in and half out of the opening to the hidden passageway. She was still alive, glaring balefully at Sara and struggling to pull herself up even as she clutched the bloody gash in her side where Seifer had slashed her. Dark bruises told of where Quistis' whip had ripped away skin and cloth, and bloody circles marked Sara's own attacks. But she wasn't done yet.

Sara brought up one of her guns and trained it on Astasia's forehead. "It's over."

"You would kill… your own mother…?" she snickered.

"You're not my mother."

She fired. The shot was oddly loud in her ears, but Sara didn't mind. She allowed herself to be temporarily deafened while she watched Astasia's body whip back as the bullet embedded itself in her brain. Blood sprayed out behind the dead sorceress in crimson splatters as the impact threw her to the floor once again.

It was a long time, or it seemed that way, before Sara finally moved. The one who had hunted her for so long, and who had hurt Zell so deeply just now, was no more. Sara wasn't sure what to think, so she didn't. Instead, she turned away and went to Zell, ignoring the periodic thumping at the door as the guards continued to try to break down the doors. They didn't matter, not anymore. With Astasia dead, their power was broken.

Zell looked up as Sara came near. "Sara… oh man, Lily, she… she's…"

"I know. We'll grieve later, okay? We've got to get out of here."

She took his shoulder for a moment, and at last he nodded, picking up Lily's body and carrying it with him. Sara pulled the knife from the girl's back and tossed it aside while Quistis and Seifer quietly led the way into the passage Astasia had opened. Just as Sara stepped into it, the office doors finally splintered and flew apart, and she had to duck a hail of bullets as the guards opened fire before they even got into the room. Sara fired a few shots in return, just long enough for her to duck the rest of the way into the passage and catch up to the others.

"Hurry!" Quistis urged.

Sara did so, breaking into a run as the others did likewise. She hurried past Seifer as he stopped for just a moment to fire back the way they had come. Not at the guards, who were just entering the passageway, but at the ceiling just above them. Pausing for just a moment, Sara watched as a blazing fireball shot from Seifer's gunblade and exploded into the top of the passageway where the guards were, bringing tons of wood and concrete down on top of them and effectively blocking off any further pursuit.

Sara got moving again almost at once, Seifer bringing up the rear as the small group raced through the dark tunnel. Only the glow from Quistis' small flashlight kept the gloom at bay. And so it went, for what seemed like hours. No one spoke, and only the sound of their breathing and their boots treading on the ground broke the silence.

At last, Sara felt a slight breeze on her face, and by the time she and the others emerged from the tunnel and into a side street several blocks behind the palace, night was just starting to give way to the earliest hints of dawn. The sounds of sirens and of muffled shouts told Sara that the pursuit wasn't over yet. It would still be a while before she and the others could rest. But where could they possibly do that?

"So, where to?" Seifer asked quietly.

Quistis eyed the street warily. "We should try to get to President Caraway. With Astasia dead, her subordinates may try to harm him in retribution. Besides, he needs to know what's going on so he can take back control of this place."

"Good enough. Let's get to it, then. We ain't got all night."

He hurried down the street without waiting for the others. Typical, Sara figured, but in a way it was reassuring. Some things didn't change, even in the worst of circumstances. She supposed she could take some comfort in that. Even so, the cold rage in Zell's eyes kept her wary. Sara didn't like to think about what he might do if any of Astasia's troops got in his way. But maybe she wouldn't try to stop him, either. He went with Quistis down the street after Seifer, oddly silent as he carried Lily's body so gently.

With a pained sigh, Sara followed after him.


	27. The Awakening

**Chapter 26  
****The Awakening**

The boy was alone, a dark-haired toddler walking across the snow. Crouching behind one of the tall pillars of rock lining the clearing, Reeve narrowed his eyes and watched for the Snows he knew had to be nearby. There was no way the child could have gotten out here by himself. And he didn't need to hear Iseldra's sudden intake of breath to know that the boy was her son. But why send him out here on his own?

Unless the snow sirens had known they were coming.

Reeve exchanged a worried glance with Red, who crouched tensely on his other side with Cait Sith on his back. The same thought seemed to have occurred to them as well, for Reeve saw his unease reflected on both of their whiskered faces.

Before he could say or do anything, however, Iseldra rushed out into the clearing, calling her son's name. "Erich!"

"Iseldra, wait!" Reeve hissed.

She either didn't hear him or didn't care, for she kept going anyway. It had been three days since Reeve had led his little group with her across the glacier after parting with Cloud and the others. The journey had been thankfully uneventful, if delayed by the weather. Even now, the sullen gray clouds overhead spoke of another blizzard that would hit before too long. Reeve hoped this would all be over by the time that happened, but Iseldra's sudden rashness made him less sure of that than he would have liked.

Iseldra was only a few yards from the boy—Reeve guessed he couldn't have been more than two years old at the most—when the ground between her and her son suddenly split apart with a loud crack. Reeve was there in an instant, rushing up to Iseldra and grabbing her arm to keep her from losing her balance and falling into the crack. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but… look around…" she answered.

Reeve did so, noticing as Red and Cait joined him that he and his friends were no longer alone. Half a dozen or so Snows stood upon a low ridge overlooking the clearing, their crimson eyes gazing coldly at Reeve and the others. It was the first time he could actually recall seeing more than a single one of them at a time. Usually they showed up alone, or with one of those vicious blue pseudodragons called lessaloploths.

One of the Snows, her hair white rather than blue and her eyes violet instead of red, walked slowly down the ledge and lowered her arm, her gaze fixed on Iseldra. The other ice maidens followed, but at a distance. Reeve tightened his grip on his rifle but didn't bring it to bear just yet. Somehow he wasn't sure of how useful it would be, although over the years he had made some modifications to it. Firing blasts of materia energy was one such adjustment, one he had already prepared by fitting a fire materia into the barrel.

The lead Snow paused just a few feet away. "You came back, Iseldra."

"I had to," she answered.

"Then you are a fool. And we will finish what we started before. Only this time, I will make sure you are dead before I leave you."

Now Reeve did raise his rifle. "We're here for the boy."

"Take him. If you can."

----------

Squall walked onto the _Ragnarok_'s bridge more relieved and determined than he had been in many days. He'd finally gotten word from Quistis and the others in Galbadia early this morning. It was good to know they were safe and alive, at least most of them. He hadn't known Lily that well, but even so, the news of her death had saddened him. He knew Zell had loved her, and having so recently come so close to losing Rinoa, Squall understood all too well what his friend must be feeling right now.

After dispatching the usurper Astasia Deling, Quistis and the rest had taken out her troops at President Caraway's mansion without much difficulty. The former general had been grateful for their assistance and had let them rest there out of sight for the past two days while what was left of Astasia's forces scoured the city for them. Now, Quistis and her team were preparing to head over to Galbadia Garden and liberate it, if need be. Caraway had allowed them to leave Lily's body in his mansion until this whole mess was over.

Irvine and Xu had already left in the _Illumina_ half an hour ago with Barret and Yuffie to give Quistis and the others some backup and to bring them home when it was all over. Just knowing that that particular operation was underway took a lot of weight from Squall's shoulders. More fell away as he knew that soon enough, he would be heading off on his own mission, one that was long overdue.

"We ready?" Cloud asked.

Squall nodded. "Yeah. Everyone's on board."

On either side of him stood Kiros and Ward, no longer in the garb of Estharian politicians but rather in clothes more suited for combat. They didn't look much different from when Squall had seen them through Laguna's eyes in the past thanks to Ellone. And somewhere, they had even found their old weapons, too. Ward's huge anchor was slung onto his back, while Kiros' deadly katal blades were sheathed along his forearms. A simple flick of his wrist would send them springing out in an instant.

Cloud was nearby, those fusion swords of his tucked into the harness on his back. In the pilot's seat sat Cid, his spear at his side and a wide grin spread across his face as he handled the controls. He had nearly choked on his cigarette upon first seeing the _Ragnarok,_ and then again upon learning he was to fly it for this mission.

Right next to Squall was Rinoa. Though she had no weapon, she didn't need one anymore. Squall had seen that firsthand in Icicle Inn. And while he would have thought that Tifa would be here, Squall understood all too well how insistent Dr. Kadowaki could be with her patients. Cloud had mentioned that Tifa wasn't coming and why. A baby? Well, it was part of life, he supposed. Although the timing could have been better. Squall blinked and shrugged those thoughts off in a hurry. He didn't even want to think about that sort of thing yet with Rinoa. Hyne knew she'd be looking that way almost as soon as she and Squall had said their vows.

There was one other person on board besides the ship's crew, and the only one who wasn't on the bridge. Vincent. Something about the man bothered Squall, although he wasn't quite sure what it was. He was down in the passenger lounge at the moment, keeping to himself for the time being. Apparently he preferred it that way, which Squall could certainly understand. But he still didn't like how close Vincent seemed to have gotten to Ellone. Maybe he was just being overprotective, but still… it bothered him.

Squall shook off his thoughts. "Cid, take us up."

The gruff pilot nodded and pulled back on the throttle. "We're on our way!"

Outside the cockpit windows, the Garden's hangar fled from view as the _Ragnarok_ at last shot into the vast blue sky. Squall slid into the copilot's chair as Cid banked the ship to starboard until she was flying due east. Somewhere beyond the horizon, beyond the rolling waves and far past the end of the old train bridge, was Esthar. And Ellone.

_Hang on, Sis, _Squall thought. _We're coming._

----------

Ellone woke, knowing who she would see even before she saw her. The tingling of the hairs on the back of her neck told her all to well who had come, and when she opened her eyes and took in the dim, bluish light of her cell, she wasn't at all surprised to see Gravheine standing before her, her amber eyes glittering.

"Why are you here?" Ellone asked, sitting up.

"It is time. You will come with me."

Gravheine motioned with one hand, and Ellone suddenly felt herself being pulled roughly to her feet by an unseen force. "Where are we going?"

"To the Sorceress Memorial," Gravheine answered.

"Why?"

"To wake my slumbering Queen. Her prison of stone awaits us in the Memorial, just now arrived as I have from Centra."

Ellone shivered. "Don't do this, please!"

"I don't have a choice," Gravheine murmured.

The cell door opened, then, and inside walked Odine and a pair of his assistants. He grinned, his eyes alight and not entirely sane. "Soon ve shall open ze prize, yes! I have vaited for zis for too long, my dear Ellone. You and Laguna shall both vitness my—I mean, mine and Gravheine's, of course—moment of triumph!"

Ellone shook her head. "How could you do this to us?"

"Spare me your questions! Zis is no time for such t'ings. You vill come vith us. Now!"

It was more the soft hissing of Gravheine's snake and less the prodding of Odine's assistants that prompted Ellone to move. She went with Odine and the others quietly, each step sending flares of stinging pain through her body even as the wound in her chest continued to throb like a lump of ice caught within her ribs.

She became vaguely aware that she was being taken through the various corridors and elevators of the lab until at last she and the others stood outside the main entrance, the clouds gray and sullen overhead as a small, sleek aircraft came to hover nearby. Ellone noted that more of Odine's men and a few of those robotic guards joined them, but before she could see who they were escorting, a wave of dizziness swept over her and she stumbled. A strong, gentle hand caught her by the arm before she would have fallen, however, and when she looked up, she gasped in surprise. "Uncle Laguna! You're really here!"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said.

She she sank into his arms and held onto him as though he were the only thing keeping her standing. And perhaps he was. "I'm so glad to see you. Even… even like this. I thought… I thought I'd ne—aah!"

Ellone shrieked as one of Odine's men ripped her from Laguna's grasp so hard she almost fell. Odine sniggered. "No time for ze 'appy reunions. Into ze transport!"

"Leave her alone!" Laguna fumed. Ellone saw him reach for her, but a shove from one of the mechanized guards forced him away. She shrugged out of her captor's grip but did as Odine had instructed. Much as she wanted to get out of here with Uncle Laguna, she knew this wasn't the right moment, just as she knew she wasn't in any condition to try such an escape. As Uncle Laguna sat down beside her in the transport, however, he winked.

The little ship rose into the air, and Ellone's hopes with it. Although Laguna hadn't said a word—under the eyes of the guards, he couldn't—he hadn't needed to. Ellone had gotten the message. Help was on the way. Squall and the others were coming. As discreetly as she could, Ellone took Uncle Laguna's hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

----------

Reeve eyed the Snows and the jagged rip in the land they had conjured and which separated him and his friends from the frightened little boy on the other side. The gap wasn't terribly wide, but it was wide enough. Reeve knew that neither he nor Iseldra could jump it, but… maybe they didn't have to. He nodded to Red as discreetly as he could, hoping the crimson-furred feline would get the message.

A slight twitch of Red's whiskers was all the verification Reeve needed. He brought his rifle to bear on the lead Snow, hoping that he and Iseldra could keep the ice maidens distracted long enough for Red and Cait to leap across the crack, get the boy, and leap back. Positioning himself as much as he could between the Snows and his furred friends, Reeve shifted his aim and fired a materia-powered blast of flame into the ice maidens' midst.

All the Snows were on the near side of the split in the land, and as the fireball exploded around them, Reeve fired another and noted Iseldra's charge out of the corner of his eye. She had her barbed whip out and lashed it at the nearest Snow while Red ran full-out toward the gorge and jumped across it, carrying Cait with him on his back.

The blaze around the Snows suddenly dissipated, however, as a chill wind suddenly swept through the area at the behest of the white-haired siren. Lowering her arms from where she had raised them above her head, she held one hand before her and shot a blast of pure cold at Reeve even as she drew a long, curved blade of ice with the other.

Reeve staggered under the impact of the blast but stayed on his feet. He sprayed the Snows with bullets even as he dodged their magical attacks as best he could while Iseldra engaged them with her whip. She caught one across the face and it went down swiftly, blood staining the snow, and didn't rise again. Another fell a moment later, riddled with bullets from Reeve's gun. But two others had seen Red and Cait.

One slung a barrage of blizzard magic at them while the other brought up a white longbow and fired arrows of solid ice across the gorge. Reeve shot another blast of fire at them, but again the lead Snow vaporized it even as she closed the distance between herself and him. Iseldra spun, graceful and deadly as she felled another of her kin and hurried to reach the two Snows that were attacking Red and Cait.

Firing at the lead Snow, Reeve risked a quick glance away and saw Cait hurriedly pulling the boy onto Red's back in front of him even as he threw a few fire spells back at the Snows. Although it sometimes failed, the materia was better than nothing, and it bought Red enough time to turn around and back up enough to make the return jump.

Reeve brought up his rifle in front of him just in time to block the lead Snow's vicious downward cut. He pushed her away, but she only smile cruelly and slashed at him again, harder this time and at a higher angle. Reeve moved to block again with his gun, but this time the frigid sword cut right through it, shearing it in two and sending him stumbling backwards. The witch moved fast, too fast, and before Reeve could recover, he felt the icy blade slide into his stomach. The two halves of his rifle fell from his hands.

"_Reeve!"_ he heard Iseldra cry.

_Damn. I'm not a fighter. What was I thinking?_

The violet eyes of the white-haired Snow were like chips of cold amethyst as they regarded him, and for a moment, time seemed to slow almost to a halt. Reeve was dimly aware of the pain, of the blood staining his once neat white oxford shirt and blue overcoat. He saw Red leap across the gorge, Cait and the boy in tow, but an arrow from that other Snow caught him at the last moment, thudding in between his ribs. Red snarled in pain but managed to catch the crack's edge with his forepaws as Iseldra at last decimated the Snow archer and her spell-slinging companion. The only one left now was the leader.

She pulled her blade free, and Reeve fell to his knees, one hand instinctively flying to the wound in his stomach. He froze, however, as the blade came to rest against his neck. Red halted in the act of pulling himself up, and Iseldra stopped as well, her crimson eyes finding first Reeve, and then those of the white-haired Snow.

"Shall I kill him, Iseldra?" she purred. "Or shall I take him? I must admit, you always did have a good eye for finding mates."

Iseldra lowered her whip. "If you want someone to punish, Sarielle, take me."

"Why should I?"

"I broke our laws, not them. Let them go."

Sarielle shook her head. "I think not. You've grown soft, consorting with humans and the like. And so because of that, you'll watch them die. And your son."

"You would kill an innocent child?" Iseldra murmured.

"Of course. And so would you. We are predators, Iseldra. It is our way."

Iseldra shook her head. "No. Not for me. Not anymore."

"You will always be a killer. The humans will never accept you, never understand you. Are you so deluded that you think otherwise?"

"I'll take my chances with them, Sarielle."

The white-haired Snow shook her head. "You will fail. Better that I kill you now. But not before you watch the others die first."

Reeve moved almost before he realized he was doing so. Ignoring the pain, he seized Sarielle's arm, spun around, and used it to impale her with her own blade. Her violet eyes widened in shock as the sword cut through her chest and burst out of her back. Filled with adrenaline and anger, he grabbed the fire materia from his shattered gun, shoved it against Sarielle, and called upon its magic. The explosion threw her across the snow like a rag doll and slammed Reeve backwards onto the ground hard enough to force the breath from his body.

A moment later, Iseldra was at his side, her slender arms holding him close to her. Reeve managed to sit up, wincing in pain as he did so, and found he could breathe again. He let himself meet her worried gaze for just a moment before looking past her to Red, who was still trying to climb out of the gorge.

"Go and… help Red…" Reeve said. "I'll be fine…"

Iseldra nodded, kissed him on the forehead, and hurried over to do so. With her aid, Red was able to reach level ground, and after carefully pulling the arrow from his side, Iseldra picked up her son and held him so tightly that Reeve thought she might never let go. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she whispered to the boy.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Reeve took out a pair of vials. They were potions of a stronger variety, made for more serious wounds than ordinary potions could handle. They were still only a temporary measure, but it would do until he and the others could get to WRO headquarters. Reeve tossed Cait a potion for Red and then drank the other one himself.

He was just feeling its effects—the wound in his stomach was knitting itself up—when he heard the chopper. It was still distant, but he thought he knew who it might be. The only question was why. Reeve got to his feet, the pain less now but still there, and watched with the others as the helicopter flew directly to their position. Iseldra came to stand near him, her boy still in her arms, while Red and Cait lingered a little behind.

When he saw the Shinra logo on the chopper, Reeve wasn't surprised in the slightest. Rufus always did have a way of knowing exactly what was going on. Moments later, the chopper at last touched down, and through the cockpit window, Reeve could see Tseng in the pilot's chair with Elena at his side. Reno and Rude hopped out onto the snow a moment later, and Reeve instinctively tensed. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time he and his friends had run into the Turks.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Reno held up his empty hands. "Hey, hey, man, relax! The boss sent us to lend you guys a hand. Looks like we missed all the fun, though."

"You're on our side, now? After what you put that girl through?"

"It was our job," Rude said simply.

_Just like a Turk,_ Reeve thought. "I'll bet it was. And this is, too, no doubt."

"Hey, it's a living," Reno shrugged. "We'll do what the boss pays us to do. And right now that means helping you out."

Reeve still wasn't convinced. "So Rufus is waiting for us?"

"At headquarters," Rude confirmed.

"Mine or yours?"

"It's alright, Reeve," a new voice answered. "They speak the truth."

A third person hopped out of the chopper, then, one Reeve recognized at once, although he was surprised to see her here. Shelke didn't leave WRO headquarters very often, after all. But here she was, her coppery fan of hair a bright splash of color against the white and gray backdrop of the glacier. Although she was able to grow again—the experiments done upon her in Deepground had kept her trapped in the body of a ten-year-old for years—she was still small, and the two Turks towered over her. But she had a presence of her own, and her words reassured Reeve. If she said it was true, then it was.

Reeve nodded. "Alright. We'd better go, then."

"Are you alright? You've been wounded, and Nanaki as well."

"We'll be fine, Shelke. The potions will keep us patched up until we get to headquarters. Is Rufus really there waiting for us?"

"Yes. He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible."

Red tilted his head questioningly at her. "How did he know we were here, Shelke? And how were you able to find us?"

"Rufus contacted me shortly after Cloud and the others spoke with him. He and I were both aware of the lifestream's recent abnormal activity and agreed that it should be looked into. When the _Shera_ disappeared from the tracking monitors at headquarters, I grew concerned. Cait Sith's locator signal was still active, however, so we were able to use it to find you."

Reeve nodded. "So I guessed. Thanks for coming for us."

"You're welcome. Shall we go?"

Shelke and the Turks hopped back inside, followed by Red and Cait. Reeve lingered a moment longer, however, wondering if Iseldra would come or not. He hoped she would, but he would understand if she didn't want to. Sarielle had been right in at least one thing, at least. People would always mistrust her and fear her. It was the reputation of her race, and even though she wasn't like them anymore, acceptance in a human world was always going to be difficult.

"What will you do now?" Reeve asked gently.

Iseldra shook her head. "I don't know. I can't stay here, though. Sarielle is dead, but another will eventually take her place. And she will hunt for me and my son until she finds us. My people may be solitary, but when one such as Sarielle is killed, they don't forget it."

"Come with me back to headquarters. You'll be safe there."

"You've already risked your life for us once, Reeve. I don't want to put you in such danger again. If something ever happened to you, I…"

Reeve clasped her free hand in his. "I'll take that risk."

"Are you sure?" Iseldra asked.

"Positive. I know it won't be easy, but I'll be there to help you. I promise."

A faint smile crossed her lips. "I'll hold you to that."

----------

Ellone's blood went cold as she stepped inside the Sorceress Memorial. Although she had never been here before, she knew what the place had been used for. It was here that Uncle Laguna and the others had ensnared the vicious sorceress Adel before sending her into space within her metal tomb. It was also here that Estharian officials had later attempted to seal Rinoa after she and Squall and first returned from space in the just-recovered _Ragnarok_ space cruiser. They had tried to seal her because she, too, had been a sorceress, even though she was nothing like Adel. Squall had saved her in the end, and together with the others they had defeated the true menace, the wicked sorceress from the future. Ultimecia.

Now, some two years later, Ellone found herself entering that place and not liking it at all. What now was stored here? What was it that Gravheine had brought here from Centra? A stone prison, she had said. What did she mean? Ellone sighed, not sure she wanted to know. But she was about to find out, regardless. She held Uncle Laguna's hand in hers as Dr. Odine and his assistants led them swiftly through the complex and the mechanized guards—they looked almost like regular Estharian soldiers, with their armored uniforms and the helmets with their low visors that completely obscured their faces—prodded them along with their rifles. Gravheine followed behind, wrapped in gloom and and silence.

After a few moments, Ellone, Uncle Laguna, Odine, and Gravheine passed through a pair of thick iron doors along with two of the mechanized guards and into the central containment area while Odine's assistants remained in the outer control room. Mist flowed over the floor around their ankles in wispy tendrils, and Ellone shivered as the cold air of the room swept over her. The sealing mechanism—a concave device of polished glass and steel set against the far wall with thick black cables stretching out from it on either side—was empty, but it was not to it that Ellone's eyes were drawn but rather to the object sitting upon an elevated pedestal in the middle of the room. A vision—no, a memory—flashed through her mind then, so clear and vivid that Ellone felt almost as though she were reliving it.

_A stone sarcophagus, engraved on all sides with intricate carvings, a smooth, concave depression in its center. Unholy life pulsed within, sealed away for all time. Or so those who had done so had thought. The coffin hovered a meter above the ground in the midst of the fiendish assembly, the hooded, winged horrors keeping a reverent distance as they gazed upon it with shimmering, feral eyes. And from it, a voice…_

It was the sarcophagus from her dreams.

"_No!"_ she shrieked. "Don't open it! Gravheine, you have to listen to me!"

Gravheine withdrew a dark, shimmering orb from her robes. "I have to, Ellone. I have come too far to turn away now. I must wake Her, as I promised."

"Seddhira's using you! She'll destroy everything!"

"Enough of zis!" Odine snarled. "Into ze sealing device, Ellone. You vill vatch from d'ere as our Queen is roused and you and your powerz are bound forever! Ve cannot have you interfering, after all. Ze Lady Seddhira vould be most displeased."

Laguna lunged toward Odine. "Bastard! Leave her alone!"

One of the guards caught him in the gut with butt end of its rifle, however, and he doubled over. Another blow on the back of his neck sent him sprawling to the ground and before he could even get to his knees, the rifle was pointed at the back of his skull.

"Uncle Laguna!" Ellone cried. She struggled in the other guard's grasp.

"Don't kill him," Odine said. "Yet. Let him vitness ze Queen's awakening and Ellone's sealing first. Bring him vith me to ze upper control room."

The guard with drew the gun and yanked Laguna to his feet, pushing him along behind Odine as the twisted little scientist hurried out of the room through another pair of thick iron doors. Ellone trembled as the other guard shoved her into the sealing unit and bound her wrists and ankles with strips of hard leather attached to the back of the device. The guard stepped back, and the transparent cover slid closed as liquid poured out from some of the cables and began to harden into a thin, almost organic membrane that slowly began to envelop Ellone's body. It was cold, so cold, and she knew it was only a matter of time before it encased her completely.

At the same time, tiny clouds of gas began leaking out of other cables, cold as a Trabian blizzard. It was, together with the membrane, meant to preserve her, Ellone realized. To freeze her alive. It wouldn't be long before the process was finished—Ellone was shaking her head with wooziness even now—but it would be long enough for her to see the beginning of the horror Gravheine was about to unleash.

Despite the gas, the transparent cover—it wasn't made of glass, but rather a sort of clear, polished crystal—did not fog up, and Ellone watched as Gravheine slowly moved to the sarcophagus. She held up the black orb and looked at it. Was that the black materia that Cloud and Tifa had told her about? Ellone thought it was.

At that moment, Gravheine looked at her, her reptilian eyes as cold as the air inside the sealing unit. Ellone wanted to cry out, to try to warn her again, but she knew Gravheine wouldn't have listened to her. She had made her choice. Turning away, she thrust the black materia high over her head, and the dark orb pulsed like some demon's wicked heart. The room seemed to pulse with it, a vibration that Ellone felt beneath her feet and within her very bones. Lowering her arm, Gravheine held her talisman just over the concave depression embedded into the cover of the stone sarcophagus and whispered words that Ellone could not hear.

Gravheine fit the orb into place.

All at once the runes and glyphs engraved into the top and sides of the sarcophagus flared to life, glowing with bright streamers of amber light. Gravheine backed up ever so slightly as the lid of the stone coffin simply crumbled away and tendrils of black, roiling mist—no, not mist, Ellone realized, but darkness so black it was like looking at the endless void between stars—seeped out from inside. The sarcophagus rose, slowly, to float a few feet above the ground just as Ellone had seen it do in her dreams. She shivered again.

Streaks of blackness shot out from the sarcophagus like dark comets, shrieking around the chamber like lost souls at last set free. And perhaps they were. Twisting trails of shadow raced across the floor from out of the sarcophagus and snaked up the walls, bending them and blackening them, warping them out of shape even as the floor buckled and split. And suddenly there _were_ snakes, dozens of them. All black, taking shape from out the flowing darkness, their amber eyes with their slitted pupils cold and vicious.

A column of deep shadow shot up from the stone coffin and blew out the high ceiling, and suddenly Ellone could see the sky. It had been clear, but now masses of thick, roiling clouds mushroomed into life, black billowing things darker and more foreboding than the grayest storm clouds ever could be. They twisted and raged, blotting out the sun as lightning forked between them. Thunder exploded everywhere, and the wind howled.

Ellone blinked and shook her head, feeling the cold numbness of the sealing unit starting to overtake her, and watched as the countless writhing tendrils of blackness twisting around the room began meshing together, stretching upward past the edge of the broken ceiling and hardening into something like glistening obsidian. Walls, Ellone realized. The darkness was taking over the Sorceress Memorial and reshaping it, consuming it, incorporating the sealing chamber and the other outer rooms into its new form as it did so.

_A tower,_ Ellone thought. _That's what it is._

Amidst it all, Gravheine stood her ground, gazing raptly at the sarcophagus as the Memorial underwent its strange transformation. Serpents hissed all around her, all but blotting out the floor, their black scales like chips of onyx. And yet still, She who had been bound within the sarcophagus had not yet woken. Not fully. Although her eyelids had grown almost too heavy to keep open, Ellone had watched the entire thing. And suddenly she understood. Seddhira wouldn't wake all at once. The process was gradual, the unraveling of her bonds something that would take time to complete.

_Time we can use to destroy her,_ Ellone swore silently.

----------

"What the hell is _that?_" Squall exclaimed.

He was looking out through the bridge's windshield and what he saw he didn't like in the slightest. Ahead of the Ragnarok's nose, the sky had become an ugly mass of roiling, thundering clouds that he would have bet hadn't been there an hour ago. Rising in its midst from what had once been the Sorceress Memorial—Squall recognized the steps leading up to it, but that was about all that was left that he _could_ recognize—was a brooding tower of jet black stone. Streaks of shadow swirled around it and within it like wraiths.

Cloud narrowed his eyes. "Our destination."

"It begins," Vincent murmured. He had joined the others on the bridge not too long ago. "The shadow falls. And the serpent stirs."

Rinoa's face paled. "Elle and Laguna are in there…"

"Look!" Kiros pointed.

Squall did so, his fist tightening at his side. Outside of the Memorial—or whatever it had become—there was more than just Odine's mechanized troops. Tendrils of that red stuff Cloud and his friends had called the lifestream shot out of the ground, twisting and coiling, and from them and from the shadows around the tower emerged creepers, nightwings, and other horrors that might once have been human in some other age. The lifestream swirled around the tower, wrapping itself high around the black monolith's forboding height, its crimson glow reminding Squall of the Lunar Cry that had hit Esthar during the war a few years ago, covering the region with monsters in the process.

He turned to Cid. "Take us in."


	28. The Rescue

**Chapter 27  
****The Rescue**

The _Ragnarok_ swept low, engines roaring, diving from the skies like a hawk, guns ripping into the steadily thickening ranks of Odine's mechanized infantry and the demons spewing from the corrupted lifestream. The ship flew over the barren plains, bullets and particle beams tear apart mechs and fiends alike as it sped toward the twisted black tower that had once been the Esthar Sorceress Memorial.

Vincent clutched the bulkhead as the ship suddenly tilted to port, veering away as a flock of what looked like shadowcreepers with wings screeched right toward the cockpit. In the copilot's seat, Squall was working the weapons console while Cid flew the ship through the steadily increasing horde. Gunfire blasted a pair of the nightwings into black ash and scattered the rest. More were coming, though. Vincent could see no end to them.

"Look!" he pointed.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "The lifestream…"

Tendrils of it—bright, angry red—were rising out of the ground all across the plains, much like it had six years ago back home when Meteor had fallen. Only then, it had been green, a flow of life that had saved the planet when nothing else could. Now it was crimson, a flow of death. And from it came more and more dark shapes. Shadowcreepers and nightwings, and vicious black serpents like the one that had nearly killed Rinoa. But of them all, the wraiths were the ones that Vincent's eyes returned to time and again.

Hooded and robed as much in dark, writhing mist as in fabric, they walked as men and bore three pairs of black, feathered wings. Some wielded blades, while others did not. Vincent could not see their faces, for which he found himself grateful, but their eyes glowed amber. There were fewer of them than of the rest of the fiends, but Vincent had no doubt that they were more dangerous by far than any of their lesser kin.

"You guys best get your asses ready!" Cid yelled, "'cause those bastards ain't gonna let me just wait around for ya while you get your friends out!"

"Let's go!" Cloud motioned to the others.

Vincent was already turning to the lift, with Cloud just behind him. He had guessed as much. Squall got up, relinquishing the copilot's seat to one of the Estharian crewmen, and Rinoa went with him along with Kiros and Ward. Vincent rode down to the lower level with Cloud and Squall, then hurried with them to the cargo bay while the lift went back up to the bridge so Rinoa and the rest could follow.

Five minutes later, the six of them stood ready in the cargo bay as the ramp opened even while the ship was still in midair. It wasn't too far off the ground—Cid had brought it low enough for them to jump off—but it would still be tricky. Vincent nodded to Cloud, cocked Cerberus' trigger, and was just about to leap out of the ramp and off the ship when a quartet of dark shapes suddenly flew inside.

"Nightwings!" Squall growled, slicing one with his gunblade.

Vincent dove to one side out of the path of the second and caught it in the head with a blast from Cerberus. Smoke filled his nostrils, but the thing exploded into black ash and was gone. Cloud made short work of another one, cleaving it in two with his sword as it dove for him. Vincent was just about to get up when he saw a streak of white fire shoot past over his head and heard a screech of rage abruptly cut short as more black ash filled the air. Looking behind him, he saw Rinoa lowering her hands, which still glowed slightly.

She nodded. "I think that's all of them. Until we get outside, that is."

"Don't waste time on them when we're out there," Kiros said. "There are too many of them for that. Just concentrate on getting inside the Memorial and getting our people out. Don't worry about ending this nightmare until they're safe."

"Besides, Elle's the only one who can really end it."

Vincent hefted Cerberus. "Then let's get her back. Now."

He leapt out from the ramp without another word, landing in a crouch on the ground and firing off a pair of quick shots at the two creepers charging him. The bullets tore them apart in midleap, and in the midst of the swirling black ash, Vincent saw the others landing nearby and fighting off any enemies that came near.

Charging up the stairs, Vincent shot anything in his way, Cerberus in one hand and his rapid-fire Griffon machine gun in the other. Strapped to his back was Ellone's bladestaff, although Vincent doubted she would be in much shape to use it when he found her. But he'd had no intention of leaving it behind, either.

A blast from either gun vaporized the creepers in front of him while Cloud, Squall, and Kiros made short work of the others with their blades, Ward skewered one nightwing after another with his huge anchor, and Rinoa's blazing sorceress fire incinerated two more. The group was almost to the top of the stairs, ducking and dodging out of the way of the crimson tendrils of the lifestream, when a trio of hooded and robed wraiths charged at them, their wicked swords cold and deadly in the gloom and their feathered wings spread wide.

A terrible screeching filled the air and a chill swam in Vincent's blood, but he ignored it and fired at the nearest of the wraiths. The bullets passed through it as though it weren't even there. Cold steel slashed at him, but he dodged it at the last moment, firing again even though he knew it was useless. He wasn't going to be stopped now, not when he was so close! Not when Ellone was just inside and needed him so desperately!

Rage built up within him, a fury he knew all too well. Dimly he was aware of white fire, Rinoa's power, shooting into another of the wraiths, burning it but not killing it. The things were resistant even to sorceress flame, it seemed. Cloud and Squall were fighting the third, blades cutting and slashing against those of the wraith but finding no openings, while Kiros and Ward held off the lesser demons surging behind them.

Vincent blocked it out, blocked it all out. He knew what was coming, and he let it come. Perhaps it was the only thing that could save them now. He should have known sooner that it would happen, it was only a matter of time. It had happened once before, in the woods north of Icicle Inn, before he had first found Ellone. He should have suspected the danger to the planet at that point, since what had happened only did so when it was truly threatened. Once, during the quest to stop Sephiroth, and then later against Deepground and Omega. And now, for a second time in the midst of demons and darkness, it happened.

Chaos flared to life once more.

In a flash of violet light, Vincent's human form was gone, and in its place was the hulking, black and red form of the planet's failsafe. His leathery wings stretched out, his yellow eyes burned, and he roared. In his hand emerged the Death Penalty in its true form, a huge silver rifle with four massive barrels arranged in a crosslike formation. His other guns were gone, absorbed into him along with his human body in that strange process of transformation that had brought out this other side of him, this dark side he could never escape.

Vincent roared, a sound so primal and terrifying that his friends and even the wraiths shrank back for a moment. That was all he needed. Up came the Death Penalty, its piercing energy beams cutting apart the wraith in front of him instantly. Another moved to intercept him, the one Rinoa had burned, but a blast right into its hooded face reduced it to nothing but black ash. Sorceress fire consumed the third as Rinoa sent her power hurtling into it with both hands. The flames leaped into the thing's hood, dove down inside it, and a second later it exploded with a shriek and a flash of blinding light into nothing but dark, swirling dust.

Surging past the wraiths' remains, Vincent ripped the doors off their hinges, threw them aside, and dove into the blackness of the tower.

----------

Kiros sprinted inside after the thing that Vincent had become. Whatever it was, it had gotten them past the wraiths, so he would trust it for now. Slashing apart a pair of creepers with the katal blades mounted on his wrists, he fought his way through the entryway and into the primary control area where Odine's mechanized soldiers were waiting for them. They fired almost immediately, pulse rounds flying through the room in a haze of blue bolts, but Kiros and the others made short work of them.

"Squall!" he said. "You and the others get Elle! Ward and I will take care of Laguna!"

The young commander nodded. "Hurry! There's no time!"

Kiros turned without another word to a set of stairs leading to the upper level and took them two at a time, Ward right behind him. As he ran, Kiros could feel the strain in his muscles, and Ward's labored breathing told him his friend felt the same way. _Guess we're not as young as we used to be._ Still, it would have to do.

Cutting through more of the demons and droids as he reached the upper level, Kiros ran down the hall to a doorway flanked by a pair of larger mechs sporting an energy rifle in each hand. Bright red beams flew at him and Ward as the things opened fire, and while Ward managed to block the shots with his huge anchor, Kiros flinched as one of the lasers nicked him on the shoulder before he could dodge it completely.

Next to him, Ward heaved his anchor and hurled it like a javelin at one of the massive droids, impaling it against the wall in a bright shower of sparks and smoke. Meanwhile, Kiros spun low, his arms out wide, and sliced the other mech cleanly in two along its steel waist. It fell apart as he punched his personal override code into the door panel.

Kiros was just charging inside as the doors slid open when he caught a glimpse of Odine ducking through a door on the far side as half a dozen mech troopers and three of Odine's assistants moved in between Kiros and Laguna, who stood with his hands bound on the far side of the room. When he saw Kiros and Ward, he grabbed the neck of the droid nearest him—they had all turned to face the new arrivals—and snapped it with one swift twist.

"Guys! You made it!" Laguna cheered, kicking another mech as it tried to turn around.

Kiros stabbed another through the chest, lopped the head off a third, and slashed open one of Odine's men while Ward threw one of the others across the room like a rag doll and slammed his anchor into first one and then the other of the last two mechs. The last of Odine's assistants turned and fled after his master.

Laguna held out his hands, and Kiros sliced his bonds free. "Don't worry about him, my man. Right now we've got to get the hell out of here."

"Elle?"

"Squall and the others are getting her out right now. She'll be alright."

Laguna nodded. "Then let's get movin', shall we?"

"Right. Here, take this," Kiros reached over his shoulder and tossed Laguna a battered and rusty old Galbadian machine gun. "I found an old friend of yours."

"Sweet! Thanks, man! I hope she still works. This baby's even older than I am."

Kiros whirled around to face the door he had just come through. His eyes narrowed. "Looks like we're about to find out."

A dozen more mechs were running down the hall toward them, energy rifles blasting, as a pair of creepers leapt ahead of them. Kiros ran straight at them, catching one of the creepers in midair and ramming one of his blades through its neck. It exploded into black ash as Ward cut the other one apart with his anchor, and a moment later bullets flew through the air as Laguna opened up, spraying the mechs with lead. Three went down in the initial volley, and Kiros and Ward took care of the rest seconds later.

"Whew!" Laguna breathed. "Just like old times, eh?"

"Something like that," Kiros shrugged. "Ward says he feels the same way."

Laguna slapped a fresh magazine into his gun. "Yeah. Too bad the faeries aren't here to help us, though. We sure could us 'em."

"Come on, Laguna. The others are going to need our help getting out of here."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lead the way, old buddy!"

----------

Vincent burst in the sealing chamber, throwing mechs aside as though they were made of paper. Energy bolts flew at him, but they bounced harmlessly off of the armored black and red carapace that encased him as Chaos. Droids and demons alike exploded all around him as the Death Penalty's huge beams sheared through them one after another. Dimly, Vincent was aware of his friends joining him, of Cloud and Squall cutting enemies apart while Rinoa incinerated them with her sorceress fire. But they were an afterthought, in the background. Even the stone sarcophagus lay only at the very edge of his attention, the woman who stood enthralled by its power a shade he paid little heed to.

Within the sealing device on the far wall was Ellone.

She was unconscious, wrapped in a transparent membrane, her arms and legs bound to each other and to a network of cables and tubing from which chill gasses emanated. She was being frozen alive, for what purpose Vincent could not say. Her skin was pale, her short brown hair damp and clinging to her face and neck.

Vincent roared again, his blood boiling, and flew across the room to the sealing device. To Ellone. Ripping and clawing, he slashed at the membrane and the cables and ripped them away from her as behind him he heard the sounds of Cloud and the others engaging the robed woman in battle. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Ellone. Vincent worked quickly, his yellow eyes blazing as he fought to free her, and a moment later she tumbled limply into his arms.

Whirling around, fangs bared, his wings spread wide, Vincent flew back across the room, cradling Ellone in his arms and blasting with his massive gun anything that came near. Bolts of amber energy flew at him from the dark woman's hands and scorched his side, but he flew on. Cloud and the rest fell back as Vincent landed on the far side of the chamber. Turning around, he fired back at the woman, but she dodge out of the way and cut toward him with her blades. Squall brought his own down and shoved them away as Cloud and Rinoa fended off the creepers and serpents closing in from the sides.

"Get her out of here!" Squall ordered. "Now!"

Vincent needed no encouragement. Blasting apart a pair of nightwings and the wraith leading them, he ran out of the sealing chamber, the others close behind him. He crossed through the entryway and hurried outside, the afternoon sun blindingly bright after the dimness of the tower. Vincent ran down the steps, shooting anything in his way, but there were too many of them, mechs and demons both. Cloud and the others came up beside him.

"Where's Cid?" he asked.

He got his answer a moment later as a massive shadow blotted out the sun and a volley of particle beams and missiles ripped through the enemy ranks. The _Ragnarok_ flew low, the cargo bay ramp wide open as the ship came down to hover at the bottom of the stairs. Just then, there was a barrage of gunfire from behind them as Kiros and Ward rejoined them along with Laguna and a host of mech soldiers.

----------

Laguna fired at the nearest of the troops, the feel of his gun in his hands familiar and reassuring. Still, it wasn't going to be enough. There were too many mechs and too many of those blasted demons, whatever they were. At least, Laguna reflected, he would go out fighting. He could live with that. All he needed was the transmit code for the glitch.

"Kiros!" he called. "I think it's about that time!"

His friend nodded and exchanged a knowing glance with Ward. "I'd say it is, my man. But not yours. Not today."

"Huh?"

"Squall!" Kiros called past him. "Whatever happens, get your father's sorry ass on that ship! And don't look back!"

It took only a moment for Laguna to realize what was going on, but by then it was too late. His son was already pulling him away with a grip like iron. What in Hyne's name were they _thinking? _Had they gone mad? This wasn't how it was supposed to go! Laguna fought against Squall's grip, his eyes wide as he looked at his longtime friends.

He shook his head. "No way, man! That is so not cool! No _way!_"

"Sorry," Kiros shrugged. "I guess your reunion with Raine will have to wait."

"Guys! Don't!"

Ward looked back at him, then, his gaze and scarred face oddly gentle. He nodded, hefted his anchor, and raised his hand in farewell before charging headlong into the crowd of mechs and demons crawling down the stairs from out of the tower. Kiros saluted, pressed a control on his wristpad, and followed after Ward with a loud yell.

Reluctantly allowing Squall to pull him onto the _Ragnarok_'s open ramp, Laguna shielded his eyes as the day suddenly lit up in flames. The mechs exploded almost simultaneously, metal and smoke flying everywhere amidst the black ash that was all that remained of those demons caught in the blast. Laguna staggered woodenly up the ramp and was just about to the top when another blast suddenly shook the area as more of the droids blew apart, this time so close that the ship suddenly jerked to the side even as it climbed high into the air.

Laguna caught the side of the entryway and fell inside with Squall, Cloud, and Rinoa, but at a shriek from behind him he whirled around just in time to see Vincent—or whatever it was he had become—thrown forward across the ramp, knocked completely off balance by the explosions. Ellone flew from his arms and went flying over the side.

By then the ship was at least several hundred feet above the ground and being closely pursued by nightwings. They whirled and dove, ripping at the hull or banking around front, perhaps to burst through the cockpit. The ship's guns shot down one after another, but still they came. Laguna ignored them, though, stunned first by the loss of his friends and now by the very real possibility that he was going to lose Ellone as well and he could do nothing to save her. She was falling away, plummeting through the air in what was surely a fatal fall. Laguna felt numb and useless and hated himself for not being able to save her when she needed him, for not seeing sooner what his friends had intended all along.

A blur of motion brought him from his thoughts as Vincent growled, spread his wings, and leapt after Ellone, his pale face a mask of concentration so fierce and determined that Laguna knew the man would stop at nothing to save her. And in that moment, he knew something else as well. Something he saw in Vincent then that he found both surprising and reassuring. He had, after all, felt it himself before, for Raine. And maybe, just maybe, for Edea, although he would never tell her so. It wouldn't be right.

As he watched the man who loved his daughter fly after her, Laguna quietly urged him on. "Go get her, man. Go get her."

----------

Ellone was falling.

She had wakened a little to the sounds of battle, but the grogginess from the sealing unit's gasses and the things Odine and his men had done to her had left her weak and woozy and barely aware of anything. She knew she had been in someone's arms, someone strong. Someone familiar, although she hadn't had the strength to open her eyes to find out who, and the sounds around her seemed to come from miles away.

Then blasts had exploded around her, heat warming her skin, and she had felt herself being thrown from her rescuer's arms and she was still flying, still falling. She had screamed, out of instinct, even as she had fought to wake more fully. She did so now, and when she saw what was around her and what was happening, she almost wished she hadn't.

Dark things flew around her, fiends with wings as black as midnight. Ellone was falling, falling through the sky, and above her, diving lower although it would never reach her time, was the _Ragnarok._ Squall was here! But he couldn't save her now. No one could. She saw that the base of the tower was in flames and understood the explosions must have happened as Squall and the others had been getting on board, the ship lifting off even as they ran inside. But they hadn't been quick enough, and now it was too late.

The ground was rushing up to meet her, only a few dozen yards away, when a winged form with blazing yellow eyes and a thick black and red carapace over its pale skin, swept toward her. A huge white gun with a cross-shaped barrel was held in one hand, and sharp fangs adorned its mouth. Ellone screamed as it caught her in his arms not twenty feet from the rocky plains upon which she would have smashed.

As it flew back up into the sky, the thing snarled. Not at her, Ellone realized, but at the nightwings closing in on them. It fired its huge gun, vaporizing first one and then another of the demons, and Ellone's voice died as she stared open-mouthed at the thing's pale face. A face she knew, she realized with a start. Knew and loved.

"Vincent…?"

He looked at her then for a moment, the fury draining from his face, replaced by something else. Shame. He was ashamed of what he was. This was what he had hidden from her, why he had kept himself closed off. He had never told her much about his past, and now she understood why. Vincent looked away, unable to meet her gaze. For many moments he flew with her in silence, outrunning the demons as the ship grew larger and larger above him.

Ellone reached up a hand and ran it tenderly along his cheek. He was here. He was really here. She didn't know how, but it didn't matter. Neither did this form. Whatever it was that had been done to him, it didn't change who he was, who she knew he was. At her touch, Vincent looked back at her in surprise and wonder.

Ellone only smiled. "You came for me…"

She lay her head upon his shoulder and held tightly to him as he grasped her more firmly and spun higher into the sky, dodging and wheeling away from the pursuing demons and blasting them with his gun whenever they got close. Ahead, the _Ragnarok_'s cargo ramp waited, open and inviting. Ellone saw Uncle Laguna there along with Squall. Cloud and the others must have already gone inside. With Vincent here, the others would be here, too. Ellone was sure of it. She squeezed her eyes shut as Vincent shot past the last of the demons like a hellish bullet and flew straight up the ramp and into the ship.

The cargo bay doors closed at last, the whooshing of the air outside the ship now muffled by the thickness of the hull. In its wake, everything else seemed oddly silent. Ellone opened her eyes and realized she was still holding onto Vincent, and she continued to hold on even as she felt him shudder and his body seemed to melt in her arms. There was a flash of violet light and then his other form was gone and what Ellone held was the man she knew, tall and lean and dark but a man nonetheless, clothed all in black save for his crimson cape and headband. His eyes were reddish-brown, a sight Ellone had thought she would never see again and hadn't realized until now just how much she had _wanted_ to see it.

"Now… you know…" Vincent breathed.

Ellone nodded gently. "Yes. But it's alright. I'm not afraid. I'll never be afraid of you, Vincent. Not ever. I know you too well."

"Thank you…"

She helped him to stand, and it was then that she remembered the others. First she hugged Uncle Laguna, who ruffled her hair fondly the way he always did, and then she turned to Squall. She wasn't quite sure how to approach him, since he had never been very good at expressing how he felt even after Rinoa had come into his life. But he surprised her this time, embracing her tightly for a moment before letting her go. Rinoa took his place almost immediately, her hug tighter and fiercer. She grinned and pulled away a moment later. Lastly, there was Cloud. He simply smiled a little and nodded, but that was all.

Ellone returned his greeting, noticing once again the odd quiet in the air. And then, the looks on her friends' faces, the pain behind their determined eyes. It was deepest with Laguna and Squall, and Ellone knew something was wrong, something terrible. Cloud excused himself to head up to the bridge and help Cid shake off the last of the demons that were still chasing them, and Squall followed on unsteady feet, telling Rinoa and Laguna to take Ellone to the medlab and see what they could do for her.

"What's happened?" Ellone asked the others. "What is it?"

Rinoa embraced her again, but this time it was different. She held on tightly, as before, but Ellone could feel her friend's chest quivering as she fought to speak. Laguna only sighed and looked away, sliding down to sit with his back against the bulkhead as Rinoa stepped back and took Ellone's hands in her own. There were tears in her eyes.

Her lip trembled. "You'd better come to the medlab, Elle. I think… I think you'd better be sitting down when… when I tell you."

----------

As the _Ragnarok_ sped west and the plains of Esthar gave way to the rolling blue waves of the ocean, Vincent sat alone in the ship's passenger lounge, Ellone's bladestaff lying across his knees as his thoughts wandered. He hadn't wanted to disturb her, knowing too well the grief of friends lost. Besides, Rinoa was still with her in the medlab, even though it had been over an hour since she had first taken her there.

The door at the back of the room slid open, and the man that was Ellone's adoptive father stepped inside. Ellone had told Vincent a little about him while still in the other world, and she had been right. Laguna didn't look at all like the leader of his world's most powerful nation. But that very fact reasurred Vincent in a way little else could that the man valued more than his office. With his long, tousled brown hair in its sloppy ponytail, untucked button-down shirt, and rumpled khaki pants, Laguna certainly didn't look the part of a president.

His eyes were still red around the edges, and Vincent understood that the man had been suffering through grief of his own. His two friends had given their lives to get him to safety, and their loss had wounded him deeply. Nevertheless, he gave Vincent a shaky, lopsided grin as he came to stand nearby with his hands in his pockets.

"Mind if I join ya?" he asked.

Vincent didn't. "Do as you will."

Laguna sat down in a seat across the aisle. "Man, I shoulda known Kiros an' Ward were up to something. They were always like that, you know."

"You knew them a long time?"

"Over twenty years. Kinda fitting though, that they went together. It hurts like hell to lose 'em, but that's not what I came to talk to ya about."

Vincent had suspected as much. "Why are you here, then?"

"Elle's askin' to see ya," Laguna said. "I was just visiting her in the medlab. She's in pretty rough shape, and that hurts worse than losin' my pals. I saved her once before, you know, when she was just a cute little kid. I shoulda been able to do it again, but… all I could do was watch as Odine put her through hell."

"Any attempt you would have made alone would not have succeeded."

Laguna laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still, I wish I could've done more for her. But maybe that's how it's supposed to be. 'Cause I think maybe you're the one she needs most right now, not me."

"You saw what I became," Vincent pointed out.

"Yeah. But we wouldn't have been able to save her if you hadn't done that. I dunno what it is or what happened to ya, but it helped us out a whole lot. Whatever it is, I think it's a good thing, not bad. Besides, it's still you underneath all that, right?"

Vincent nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm still in control of myself when transformed."

"And you don't seem so bad now, either. Elle's always been a good judge of character, and I'm pretty good at telling what people are like, too. I used to be a journalist, after all. Part of the job description. Comes in handy now that I'm president, too. Anyway, I'm just sayin' I trust ya 'cause I've seen how you are around her. An' that's enough for me."

"I don't understand."

Laguna grinned again. "Man, you're worse than Squall sometimes! And I thought _I_ was dense! Anybody can see that you're crazy about Elle. I'm just sayin' that I'm cool with that. She's waitin' for ya in the medlab whenever you're ready to go see her."

"You don't mind?" Vincent blinked.

"I saw enough, man. You love her. An' that's all I need to know. 'Course, Squall probably ain't gonna be so easy to convince. He always did have a head like a rock. Might have to leave him to Elle an' Rinoa to straighten out."

Vincent looked down at the bladestaff in silent wonder. Tifa had been right. He did love Ellone. Holding her again had meant more to him than he had realized at the time. And she hadn't been frightened of him, of Chaos. She had known it was still him underneath it all. But did she love him? Vincent supposed there was only one way to find out.

He rose from his seat and nodded to Laguna. "I'll go and see her."

----------

"So are you gonna tell him or not?" Rinoa asked.

Ellone swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yeah. I don't have a lot of time left, but I think it would be wrong to hide how I feel about him just because of that."

After coming to the medlab and hearing about the loss of Kiros, Ward, and the rest, Ellone had sobbed brokenly in her friend's arms for the better part of an hour. Rinoa had wept as well, her presence had given Ellone comfort. And, she suspected, her own had given Rinoa comfort as well. At least she hoped so.

When she and Rinoa had finished, at least for now, Ellone had told her everything that had happened to her since the day she had first found herself in Vincent's world. She held back nothing, not even the fact that she was slowly dying. She suspected she had little more than two days left, but this alone she kept to herself.

Uncle Laguna had stopped in for a minute, but Ellone hadn't had the heart to tell him about her condition yet. He would find out eventually, but she knew how much of a blow losing Kiros and Ward must have been to him. She wasn't going to add to that. And although her heart still ached with loss, it ached also with longing. Ellone found herself asking Uncle Laguna to tell Vincent to come see her. He had nodded, smiling mischievously as though he had known something she didn't, and then left.

Rinoa had then managed to pry the truth of Ellone's feelings for Vincent from her without too much difficulty. And she had shown off the engagement ring that Squall had finally given her. Ellone was glad he had finally done it. She had hugged Rinoa even though it hurt—her body ached all over, especially in her chest and back where the wounds from Sa'miel's blade had begun to reopen. Rinoa had bandaged them, but it was only a matter of time before Atrus' power faded completely and the damage inside reasserted itself.

Until then, Ellone would do everything she could to recover her strength and stop Gravheine and Odine. But in the meantime, she wanted to spend what time she could with Vincent, even if he didn't feel for her the way she did for him. She loved him, had realized the truth of it the moment she had realized it was he who had caught her in the air, he who had come for her and who lay beneath the visage of the beast that had saved her.

Rinoa squeezed her hand. "Good luck, Elle. To both of you."

"You're not afraid of him?"

"I saw what he turned into, but it was because of him that we were able to get inside the tower at all and get you out. He saved you. Besides, I know what it's like to be feared, being a sorceress and all. I'll give him a chance."

Ellone smiled and sat up. She was on one of the biobeds in the medlab, a little pale but feeling much better than she had in days. Rinoa had put ointment on her bruises and brought her some food from the galley. That had helped a lot, as Odine's assistants had barely fed her at all. They had wanted her on the edge of collapse for their experiments. But now it was over, and she was back among friends.

The door slid open, scattering Ellone's thoughts, and she looked up to see Vincent framed in the entryway. Butterflies rose in her stomach, and she suddenly wondered if she would be able to tell him what was in her heart. She wanted to, but she was so nervous that her mouth had gone dry. Ellone took a sip from the glass of water she had in her hands and tried to calm herself as Vincent slowly walked inside.

Rinoa rose from where she had been sitting next to Ellone and winked at her. "I think I'll just leave the two of you alone now."

She disappeared out through the door without another word, leaving Ellone and Vincent by themselves and wrapped in an awkward silence that lasted for several long minutes. Ellone wasn't sure where to begin. All she knew was that her heart was beating furiously and her skin was tingling. What should she say? How should she say it?

It was Vincent who finally broke the silence. "I… thought you would want this back…"

He was holding something, Ellone suddenly realized. Her bladestaff. She put her glass down and got up on feet unsteady both from her body's wounded condition and from the butterflies rising higher and higher in her stomach like feathers caught in a spring breeze. Slowly she walked over and took her weapon in her hands. It felt good to have it back.

"Thank you," Ellone said.

She put the bladestaff down, walking away for a moment to lean it against a supplies cabinet that was nearby, and was just heading back when a wave of dizziness passed through her. The world was suddenly spinning crazily around her and she was falling, but then she stopped, caught by a pair of strong arms. Her heart pounding, Ellone looked up to see Vincent's concerned gaze and was suddenly very aware of how close he was.

He didn't let go. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I… I was just a little dizzy there for a second."

"You're not fully recovered yet, Ellone. Don't push yourself too hard."

She smile shakily. "I won't."

"Good," Vincent answered. "Save your strength."

"I will." Ellone said. It was then that she remembered something she had noticed earlier but had forgotten in the wake of Rinoa's terrible news. "Hey, what happened to your arm, Vincent? Your gauntlet's gone."

"I took it off. The toe spikes as well."

Ellone raised an eyebrow. "Why? Not that mind, I was just surprised, that's all."

"I wanted to take back some of my humanity. Perhaps I've worn the guise of a monster long enough. I don't know. But it was you who showed me that I could be something more, that I need not be a thing of nightmares any longer."

"I… I don't know what to say…"

Vincent nodded. And while he stood there holding her, he told Ellone of himself, of his past with Lucrecia and Hojo and the things that had happened, of Chaos and Omega and how Lucrecia had saved him by infusing him with Chaos. He told her about the Jenova project and his failure to stop Lucrecia from involving herself in Hojo's experiments, experiments that had resulted in the birth of the same Sephiroth that would nearly destroy the planet many years later. It was so much to take in, but Ellone didn't stop him. He was opening himself up to her in a way she knew he must not have done even with his friends, and that touched her deeply.

He told her of his small part in helping Cloud overcome Kadaj and his gang some two years later, and his own reluctant journey to stop Deepground and Omega a year after that and how it had called up the demons of his past and forced him to finally confront them. He had been at peace for a while after that, helping Reeve and the WRO in their efforts to rebuild a world shattered by Shinra and Sephiroth, but had never felt as comfortable mingling with others as he did when he was alone. Old habits, he supposed.

When he was finished, Ellone told him of her own past, of seeing her parents shot and killed when she was two by Sorceress Adel's troops, of Raine taking her in and raising her as her own. She told him how Uncle Laguna had washed ashore one day, badly wounded, and how she and Raine had nursed him back to health. She told him how he and Raine had fallen in love and eventually married. It had been one of the happiest times Ellone had ever known, and she told Vincent as much. She told him about how Adel's troops had come back and kidnapped her and taken her to Esthar, how Uncle Laguna had come and saved her. She told him why she had been so hunted, the power that was now so different from what she had known.

Ellone told him also of coming to Matron's orphanage with Squall and meeting the others after returning to Winhill, of spending the next few years there, happy ones. She had always been Sis to the others, Squall more than most although it would not be for many years that he would truly understand why. Raine had died giving birth to him, and he and Ellone had been sent to Matron Edea's orphanage while Uncle Laguna was stuck in Esthar. Ellone told Vincent of how he had dispatched Adel, but Odine had still wanted her and so Matron and her husband, Cid, had had a ship built for her and filled it with more orphans from the first war, orphans who like Squall and the others had grown up to be SeeDs but with one primary overriding duty.

"They're sworn to protect you?" Vincent asked.

Ellone nodded. "Yes. At least, they were, back when Ultimecia was still a threat. Before Squall and the others beat her."

"Perhaps we should seek their aid. We could use their help in this fight."

"Don't worry," Ellone said. "They'll come to us."

She told him about how she had spent ten years on that ship and how she had eventually left to use her power to try and change the past so that Uncle Laguna would never have left Raine to go save her in Esthar. She told him of her small part in the Sorceress War, how she had sent Squall and the others time-dreams of Uncle Laguna and his friends as she had tried to reach that point in time where he had left Winhill to search for her and she had ultimately failed to do what she had hoped to. She told him how she had learned from it, though, how she had seen how much she was loved and so learned that the present was what mattered, the now. And as she said that last, her eyes found Vincent's and she realized that now was very important to her indeed. Her words trailed off, and she and Vincent were in silence once more.

At last she spoke again. "There's… one other thing I have to tell you, Vincent. You know Atrus brought me back after Sa'miel killed me, but… not completely. Death isn't something you can just take back. Atrus did what he could for me, but you see, I… I'm dying…"

"I know."

Ellone stared. "You know? How? Did Tifa—?"

"No," Vincent shook his head. "She said nothing. I saw it before you were taken from us. In your eyes, in the way you carried yourself."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

His eyes were gentle as he spoke. "It was a private matter for you. I knew you would tell me in your own time, when you were ready. I could wait."

"Thank you," Ellone murmured.

With that, the last of her doubts fell away. She might only have a day or two left to live—and judging from the deepening of the cold ache in her chest over the last week, she knew that was all she did have—but she wanted to be with Vincent nevertheless, to experience even for a short time the kind of love she had always longed to someday find. If he felt the same way, that was. Even if he didn't, just being with him was enough for her.

She realized then that he was still holding her, and that his face wasn't so far from hers. Far enough to be respectful, but still very close. She wanted it to be closer, much closer, but didn't know how to make it so. She was still awash in nerves, and warmth flooded her body. Her arms were wrapped around him, her hands still resting on his back where they had latched onto him when he had caught her. For long, endless moments, the only sound was their own breathing and the steady thrum of the _Ragnarok_'s engines.

Vincent broke the silence this time. "Walk with me?"

"I'd love to," Ellone smiled.

She leaned on him, still a little weak from her captivity, and went with him out of the medlab. The ship's interior had been redone a little in the years since the war but was largely the same, and it was as immense as Ellone remembered as she and Vincent walked slowly down the corridor to the main area of the lower deck. No one was there at the moment, so they continued on, making their way through the ship until they reached the passenger lounge in which Vincent had earlier taken refuge. It, too, was empty.

Ellone walked with Vincent to one of the portside windows, where outside the first hints of twilight were appearing along the eastern horizon along with a handful of twinkling stars. To the west the sky was still light, as it was always several hours earlier in Fisherman's and Balamb than it was in Esthar. The sky was cloudless, an endless expanse of blue touched in the east with pinks and golds as the sun began dipping beneath the edge of the sea, its waning light reflected again and again in the waves.

"You see why I like to fly," Vincent commented.

Ellone sighed happily. "It's beautiful."

Something streaked across the eastern sky, then, a faint flare of light that was there and then gone almost as quickly. Ellone gasped when she saw it, for even in Winhill at night with all the stars clearly visible, she had never seen before what she had seen just now. Had she imagined it? No, it had been real. A real shooting star. She smiled in delight, making her wish even though she doubted it would come true. Still, it couldn't hurt.

"You saw it?" Vincent asked.

"Yes," she laughed. "You did, too?"

He nodded. "I did. Though I hadn't expected it any more than you. I've seen one only once before, long ago, but that was much later at night."

"Did you make a wish?"

"A wish?" Vincent looked at her in puzzlement.

Ellone smiled shyly. "Something Raine told me when I was little. She said that if you ever saw a shooting star, you could make a wish on it and it would come true."

"I see. Perhaps I'll make one, then."

"I hope it comes true."

Vincent nodded. "So what did you wish for?"

"W-What?" Ellone stammered.

Vincent looked at her curiously. "You made one, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, I… I did."

"And?" he asked.

Ellone blushed furiously and looked out the window, at the empty seats, at anything but Vincent. Her heart thudded madly against her ribs, and what seemed like a thousand feathers tumbled around inside her stomach as though swept up in a whirlwind. Vincent was waiting expectantly for her to answer, and she realized nervously that she wasn't going to get out of it. And there was a part of her that didn't _want_ to get out of it.

Still not looking at Vincent, Ellone swallowed and spoke. "Oh, it's silly, really… I, ah… I was just… just wishing that, um… that you… that you would, um… kiss me…"

"Funny," Vincent replied. "I made the same wish."

Ellone stared at him, hardly daring to believe what she had just heard. He was smiling, just a little, a faint thing that nevertheless warmed her heart to see. It was little more than a slight inclination at the corners of his mouth, but she knew it was for her alone. She wrapped her arms around him as he pulled her close, one hand slipping around her waist while the other reached up to stroke her cheek with infinite tenderness.

"You love me?" she murmured wonderingly.

Vincent answered by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was wonderful, the taste of his breath intoxicating, the contours of his mouth terrain Ellone eagerly explored with her own. She closed her eyes and let herself go, losing herself in the moment, burying her fingers in the long strands of his hair as she returned his kiss. Time slipped away, but she didn't care. She could stay here like this with him forever.

Eventually, Vincent pulled away, his rust-colored eyes looking at her gently. "Does that answer your question, Ellone?"

"I want to hear you say it, Vincent."

He kissed her again, briefly, a feather-light touch of his lips upon hers. "I love you."

"Even though you're going to lose me?"

"The future is never certain," Vincent replied. "You may yet live."

Ellone wished that were true. "But even if I didn't?"

"What matters is now, Ellone. You said so yourself. Whether it be two days or an entire lifetime, my feelings are the same. I love you."

"I love you, too," she breathed, blinking back sudden tears.


	29. Preparations

**Chapter 28  
****Preparations**

"So, will you do it?" Rufus asked.

Iseldra understood what it was he wanted. And the powers she had received from Gravheine so many nights ago still lingered within her, so it might still be possible. She had thought those powers would fade, and so they had. For the most part. But they hadn't left entirely, and she wasn't sure if they ever would. Nor was she sure if she liked that. While the darker edges of it had gone, at least one part of it still remained strong. Maybe sending Cloud and his crew to the other side had bound it to her more deeply than the rest of what Gravheine had given her, which was all but gone now. Even so, what Rufus Shinra was asking was difficult, even with this part of her power still present.

She thought about it for a moment. "Sending one ship was difficult enough. And taxing. I don't know what will happen if I try to send several."

"But it _is_ possible?" Rufus pressed.

"Yes. Once they're modified, I can send them through."

At her side, Reeve was frowning. "But how? Don't you have to be on the ship as it makes the jump? How can you send more than one?"

"I think, if I focus my power onto a specific point in the sky instead of onto a ship, all the modified ships would have to do is fly to that location and engage the jump drive. I don't know how long I could maintain it, though."

"What modifications need to be made?" Rufus asked.

"You'll have to add the jump drive and reinforce the ships' engines to withstand the strain that the jump will cause. Crossing over from one world to the other bends the fabric of reality, tears it almost, and if the engines aren't protected, your ships will be ripped apart as well."

Iseldra stood in Reeve's modest office at WRO headquarters, which was just a few miles east of Junon. Situated up on the fourth floor, the room was an oasis of calm that Iseldra found she very much needed. She could hear WRO personnel scurrying around outside like worker ants, hurrying to and fro throughout the building in preparation for the operation that Rufus Shinra had just explained but which she still didn't completely understand. Still, she owed it to Reeve and to herself to help as much as she could.

She was by herself with Reeve and Rufus, having given her son to Shelke and Cait Sith to watch until the briefing was over. Rude, the bald Turk who was acting as Rufus' personal guard, stood mutely in the corner of the office watching everything through his dark glasses. Red and the rest of the Turks were out in the chopper scouting out enemy movements—dark shapes of creepers and worse like which had appeared in Icicle Inn were now appearing in places all over Gaia, from Edge to Corel to Wutai, along with the crimson tendrils of the lifestream from which they came. WRO forces were fighting them wherever possible, as were the Wusheng and Lord Godo in Wutai. But it wouldn't be enough, Iseldra knew.

Rufus folded his hands behind him. "Understood. Reeve, any objections?"

"No, but… we're hard-pressed here as it is," he answered. "Sending ships over to the other world to help weakens us in our own world. I'm just not understanding why you're so intent on this. Cloud and the others are already over there."

"That's true, of course, but this war won't be won in our world, Reeve. The true battle lies on the other side. Consider, it was from that world that our mutual friend Gravheine first came, and it was also from there that the only one who might really be able to stop her, that girl Ellone, also came. Their fight isn't going to take place here, but there."

Reeve scratched his beard thoughtfully. "You may be onto something…"

"We need to do what we can to ensure that that girl has her chance to finish Gravheine. No doubt Cloud and his friends are going to have their hands full fighting those unpleasant shadows we've encountered. So we'll just lend them some assistance, keep those fiends tied up with us long enough for the girl to do what she has to do."

"A diversion," Iseldra saw it now.

Rufus nodded. "Exactly. Which is why I'll be going along with you."

"What?" Reeve stared.

"I have to make sure our operation goes as planned. And to smooth things over with Cloud and the others. I'd rather have them as allies than enemies, you understand. And to be honest, it's partly my fault that we're in this mess to begin with."

Reeve raised an eyebrow. "Fulfilling your debt, then?"

"You could say that. I—and Shinra—do still owe this planet a debt, Reeve. Maybe by doing this I can begin to settle it. It does hold a certain bit of irony, too, don't you think? Once, my actions nearly destroyed the world. Now they may help save it."

"That means the Turks are coming too, I bet."

Rufus shrugged. "Of course. It's what I pay them for."

"I'm going, too," Iseldra said.

"It's too dangerous!" Reeve argued. "You've got your son to worry about. Just get us over there, Iseldra. We can handle the rest."

She shook her head. "I can't send you without going along myself. That's how my power works. Besides, it won't be any safer for Erich here than there. Those shadows will be here soon, and I'm not leaving him behind to watch them come."

There was another reason, but she didn't want to say it now, not in front of Rufus and Rude. Iseldra didn't want to be separated from Reeve. She wanted to stay with him, to be where he was. It was odd, this feeling, but not unpleasant. She didn't quite know what to make of it. It wasn't something she had ever felt for any of the males she had known in her old life. She had never felt anything for them. Why was Reeve so different?

He had found her some other clothes to wear, pants and a shirt to replace the frigid leotard that had so long been a part of her. In casting that off, she had felt as though she were casting off the last of who she had been. The dark looks directed at her by many of the WRO personnel she had passed neither surprised her nor bothered her, for she had expected as much. She had accepted it as an inevitable part of this new life and didn't blame people for their suspicion and mistrust of her. Her people's infamous reputation was, after all, well-earned.

Reeve sighed. "Alright. Just be careful."

"I will," she promised.

"If that's settled," Rufus interjected quietly, "perhaps we ought to get started. We don't have a great deal of time."

Reeve nodded. "I'll order the crews to begin modifying their ships for the jump."

"I'm not sure how many I'll be able to send," Iseldra cautioned. "No more than six or eight, I think. I doubt I'll be able to maintain the jump point long enough for any more than that to go through. Are Red and Cait coming with us?"

"Yeah, they'll come. Commander Reddington can handle things here while we're away. She knows what to do. Cait's going to be helping Shelke use the SND to coordinate attack patterns between the ships and their drop squads while Red fights alongside the WRO soldiers on the ground. On four legs, he'll be a lot quicker than any of us will be on two. You and I will be on the _Valiant,_ Iseldra, along with Rufus."

Rufus's green eyes glittered with anticipation. "It should be an interesting battle, to say the least. To maximize our chances of getting through, we'll take six ships to the other world. That should be well within Iseldra's capabilities. Aside from the _Valiant,_ we'll need five others, preferably heavily armed. I'll leave the task of choosing them to you, Reeve."

"Where are the Turks going to be?"

"In their chopper, of course. It has many modifications of its own, and plenty of weapons. Reno won't want to fly anything else, you know. We'll have to keep it in the _Valiant_'s cargo bay until we reach the other side, though. Will that be a problem?"

Reeve shook his head. "No. I'll have it moved there as soon as they get back."

"Excellent," Rufus replied. "We'll make the jump at 0700 hours tomorrow morning. Will that be sufficient time for you to prepare, Iseldra?"

"Yes," she answered. "I'll be ready."

----------

Zell stuck out his hand. "Zell Dincht, nice to meetcha!"

One of the newcomers, the girl, took it and winked. "Yuffie Kisaragi, the one and only Flower of Wutai! The big guy here's Barret. He looks mean, but don't let that fool ya. He's really just a big teddy bear once you get to know him."

"Hey!" the man called Barret scowled.

Zell laughed. It felt good to do so, really good. The ache of Lily's death still stung him, but he still had a job to do and friends who needed him. And to do that he had to keep his spirits up. The others—even Seifer, in his own, oddball sort of way—had done what they could over the last few days to help him with that. Of the four of them, he had been closest to Lily, and her loss had hit him hardest. But as Seifer had told him yesterday, that would mean his punch would hit harder than any of theirs when the time came to throw it.

Knowing that Rinoa was okay made it a little easier. Xu and Irvine had brought word of her recovery along with their new friends. With so many of his buddies lost, every one of them he still had had become precious to Zell, and the news that Rinoa was okay after all she had been through made him feel better and tightened his resolve. The fact that she and Squall and the rest were even now rescuing Sis and Laguna helped as well.

Zell introduced the others, skipping over Xu and Irvine since the two newcomers had arrived on the _Illumina_ along with them an hour ago. Irvine looked better than Zell would have thought, what with losing Selphie, but he knew how badly that must still be hurting his friend. Hell, it was hurting him as well. She'd been one of his best friends, after all, and he missed her a lot, especially now. Girly or no, she'd always been able to whup some serious ass with her nunchaku when she wanted to. And that would've have come in really handy right now, what with hell literally breaking loose all over the place.

Seifer folded his arms expectantly. "So what's the plan?"

In answer, Xu pointed to a display on one of the_ Illumina_'s bridge consoles. Zell and the others had come aboard after the ship had quietly touched down in the open plains a few miles away from the East Academy train station. President Caraway had suggested those plains as a rendezvous point since few people went out that way and because Galbadia Garden was just on the other side of the canyon, through a forest that ran across its base. With his help, Zell and his friends had snuck aboard a train bound for East Academy and arrived without incident.

Xu and the _Illumina_ had arrived as planned, and in the meantime Caraway and his forces had begun to retake Deling City from the remnants of Astasia Deling's private army. With her gone, her faction's hold on the government had collapsed as well. The only thing that bothered Zell was the rumor that she was somehow still alive. It was only a rumor, but it made him uneasy. He had seen Sara kill her and knew she was dead, but somehow he couldn't quite believe it.

Zell had also heard, while lying low at Caraway's place over the last few days, that Astasia's body had disappeared. Ridiculous, of course, but… she was a sorceress, wasn't she? And wasn't there something about a sorceress that he'd forgotten? Something important? Something about how they died? Or maybe, how they _couldn't_ die? At least, not until something else was done? Why couldn't he remember what it was?

Xu's voice brought Zell back to the present. "Astasia Deling's forces still occupy Galbadia Garden, as far as we can tell—we did some reconnaissance before coming here to meet you. However, they seem to be losing ground. Galbadian SeeDs and students are fighting back, led by Headmaster Martine. That should help our efforts in securing the Garden."

"Quickest way to make that happen," Irvine said, "is to get to the top level and take out whoever's in charge. I got a coded message through to Martine, so he knows we're coming. He'll have his crew keeping the enemy grunts busy while we clean up the boss upstairs. There are a few shortcuts we can use to get up there faster, so just follow me and Sara once we're inside. Most of you know we used to live here, so we know the place pretty well."

"What happens after we free the Garden?" Sara asked.

Quistis turned to her. "We take it to Esthar. It's mobile, just the same as Balamb Garden, and Squall and the others will need our help."

"Why Esthar?" Seifer frowned. "Won't he be done with his business there by then?"

"He and the others will be going back there as soon as Ellone's recovered enough from what Odine's people have done to her. This thing started in Esthar, and it's going to end there. She'll end it, but we need to help Squall and the rest give her the time she needs to do that. You've heard the latest reports, haven't you?"

Seifer nodded. "Yeah. Those things are turnin' up everywhere now."

"But they're most heavily concentrated in Esthar, around whatever it is that called them here in the first place. That's where the battle's going to be, and we have to be there. Caraway can handle things here, and I'm sure Martine will agree."

"Let's get started, then. It's not exactly a short stroll to the Garden, you know."

Xu pulled up another diagram on her console's viewscreen. It showed an overhead map of the immediate area, with a yellow dot marking the _Illumina_'s position near the bottom and a flashing red dot indicating Galbadia Garden near the top. "That's true. It'll take the better part of a day to get to the Garden on foot, but I don't want to risk flying any closer and alerting Astasia's forces that we're here."

"So we hoof it," Zell said. "Fine by me."

"I've got supplies ready for you all, so be sure to pick them up before you go. I'm staying here with the ship in case something happens, though. Once you've got control of the Garden, contact me as soon as possible and we'll head to Esthar together. Unless it's an emergency, observe radio silence at all times until then. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, and she went on. "Zell, Quistis, you're in charge out there."

"Sweet!" Zell grinned, ignoring Seifer's snort of disgust.

"You'd best get going," Xu advised. "We don't have much time. Good luck to all of you. I'll be waiting for your signal."

Quistis's eyes tightened. "You'll have it."

----------

"Irvine!" Sara called.

He turned to her. "Yeah? What is it?"

Sara hung back with him in the _Illumina_'s cargo bay as the others disembarked. She knew time was short, but she had to do this. It was anything but easy being around Irvine again, especially when they were going to be embarking together on a dangerous mission. But she couldn't afford to be distracted by a mass of jumbled feelings rolling around inside her, and neither could Irvine. Whatever issues lay between them had to be put to rest, at least for now.

"Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

When the others were gone, Sara spoke. "I just wanted to say… I don't hate you anymore, Irvine. Even though you… did what you did back then. I don't know if we'll ever be friends again, but I want you to know I still care about you."

"That… that means a lot to me, Sara. I never blamed you for hatin' me, you know. You had every right to. Sometimes I hated myself. But that doesn't help either, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. I'm trying to forgive you, but it's so hard."

She had promised herself and Zell that she would try, but the memories of that day still lingered in her mind. Sara had loved her mother very much, and she had hated Irvine so much back then after her death that she had actually thought about killing him. But she had realized that it wouldn't bring her mother back or lessen the pain in her heart, so she had relented at the last moment. Irvine had never known how close he had come to death, and Sara had never told him. She'd had him in her sights just a few days after he had killed her mother, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to fire. In spite of everything, in spite of the hate and the rage, a part of her had still cared about him, had still loved him. And still did, even now.

Sara went on. "I was just hoping we could put things aside for now, for the sake of the mission. There's too much at stake for us to worry about our own problems right now."

"Yeah, I hear you there," Irvine agreed.

"We can talk more later, if you want. If you don't, I… I'll understand."

Irvine took her hands in his and looked at her with eyes as deeply green as her own. Sara had always loved his eyes and that cocky grin of his, among other things. Looking at him now didn't hurt as much as it used to, and she took comfort in that. The feel of his hands with their long fingers clasping her own brought back bittersweet memories of happier days. It was good to hold those fingers again like she used to.

"I'd like that, Sara," he said. "I'd like that a lot. It'd be nice to, like, be a part of your life again, an' have you be a part of mine. Nothin' like before, of course, but I'd like to hope that someday we might be friends again."

"That's something to work toward," Sara smiled.

Irvine grinned. "In the meantime, if Zell ever does anything to upset you, I'll kill him."

Sara laughed, relieved that he didn't mind her relationship with Zell. That had worried her a little, especially since Zell hadn't spoken much to Irvine since he'd arrived. Not than anyone had had much time to speak to each other, but Sara knew he was still a little uncomfortable dating his best friend's ex-girlfriend.

She motioned to the ramp. "Well, we'd better go."

"Right. And Sara?"

"Yeah?" she asked.

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "Thanks."

----------

After Commander Reddington and the other officers had left his office, Reeve sank wearily into his chair. Rufus and Rude were gone, overseeing the modifications to the ships he had chosen for the jump to the other world. Reeve had briefed Reddington and her fellow commanders earlier about the procedures, and they had just finished delivering an update. It was going well enough, and Reddington had run things in the WRO before when Reeve had been away, and she had also earned several decorations for valor during the battles against Deepground three years ago when she had only been a lieutenant.

Scouts had spotted dark shapes flowing north across the Junon plains like an inky wave, and it was heading straight for headquarters and Junon itself. It would be here tomorrow afternoon. Reeve wondered why they didn't just appear here, but maybe there were limits on where they could emerge. Or maybe only so many could come out at a time, at least for now. Their appearances, at least here in this world, were scattered and inconsistent. In some places, like Wutai and Nibelheim, the demons sprang up right in the cities themselves, while elsewhere they emerged in the outskirts or around smaller settlements in smaller numbers.

Reeve thought about that for a moment. If whatever had sealed them away had collapsed completely, both worlds would be overrun by now. But they weren't. Which meant that the seal was still partially intact. Reeve hoped that could be used as an advantage. The demons couldn't appear just anywhere, at least not yet. Even the lifestream was scattered, shooting up here and there but not yet everywhere like what had happened with Meteor six years ago. So maybe that meant that humanity still had a chance. Reeve hoped it was so.

He brushed his thoughts aside as the door slid open and Iseldra walked in. She had left a few hours ago to rest and to spend some time wth her son, as there was little else she could do until tomorrow. Reeve hadn't thought he'd see her until then, but he was glad she was here now. He stood up and moved around to the other side of the desk as she entered. "Iseldra!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?"

Reeve shook his head. "Not at all. I was hoping you'd stop by. How is your son?"

"He's sleeping, finally," Iseldra said with fond relief. "I asked Shelke to stay in my quarters and watch him until I get back, if that's alright with you. I wasn't sure if she was needed elsewhere, but she didn't seem to mind."

"I think I can spare her for a few hours," Reeve laughed. "So, what can I do for you?"

Iseldra smiled, and Reeve felt his heart flutter. Maybe he was crazy, but he had to admit he had grown fond of her. Frost maiden or not, she was still a beautiful woman. Beautiful and yet so fragile, like fine china. Her heart was still bruised with the weight of the dark things she had done over the years, and it would take time to heal. But Reeve thought there was hope, saw it in the warmth of her scarlet eyes as they looked at him. "Actually, I was wondering if I could do something for _you._"

"For me?" Reeve asked.

Her eyes locked on his, Iseldra moved closer until her face was only inches away. She slid her arms over his shoulders and the back of his neck and pulled him to her before he even knew what was happening. Her lips closed over his, warm and soft and sweet, and Reeve simply stood there and let her kiss him, too overcome at the moment to even comprehend anything else. Warmth raced beneath his skin at her touch, at the taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, the feel of her generous breasts pressing against him.

When a measure of rational thought began to return to him, Reeve reached up and slipped his arms around Iseldra's waist to hold her close as he returned the kiss. He realized then what he had already known in his heart, if not his head. He had fallen in love with her. She wasn't the first woman he had ever loved—he and the fiery-haired Sasha Reddington had seen each other for the better part of a year before the difficulty of separating their personal and professional lives had proven to be too much for them to handle—but he'd have been lying to himself if he'd said he was very experienced. Aside from Sasha, Reeve hadn't been involved with a woman since before his days working for Shinra.

Iseldra finally pulled away. "How was that?"

"It was wonderful," Reeve smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I just… I wanted to show you how grateful I am for what you've done for me and for the baby. It means so much to me, and… so do you…"

Reeve kissed her again, lightly. "Really?"

"I don't know what this is, this feeling inside me," Iseldra said. "I've never felt it before, not for anyone. I didn't know I could. What is it?"

"We call it love, Iseldra."

She looked at him curiously. "Love? Do… do you love me?"

"Yes," Reeve admitted. "Yes, I do."

He was sure of it, now, and he didn't care what Cloud and the others thought. If they could accept him, then they could accept her, too. But even if they didn't, Reeve knew he would still love her. He would always love her.

Iseldra's voice lowered to a whisper. She hugged him, tilting her head so her lips brushed against his ear. "It's starting to get dark outside, but I don't want to sleep just yet. You… you can have me, if you want. I don't mind."

Reeve blinked, his mouth hanging open. "What?"

"Well, you know…"

"It… I, uh.. well, that's, um, moving kind of fast, isn't it?" Reeve stammered. "I mean, you don't have to do this."

Iseldra lay her cheek against his shoulder. "You don't want me?"

"It's not that. I do want you, but… you shouldn't feel like it's something you have to do. It isn't. We don't have to go there yet if you don't want to."

"You humans are very strange sometimes," Iseldra mused.

Reeve ran his fingers through her hair. "How so?"

"When my people mate, they just go ahead and do it. They don't think anything of it, really. It's nothing special to them, just something to be done when the time comes. I'm sorry if I offended you. I don't know much about human customs."

"It's alright, Iseldra. You didn't."

She lifted her head to look at him. "I'm glad. I didn't want it to be that way with you."

He smiled gently. "It won't be."

"Reeve?"

"Yes?"

Iseldra kissed him softly. "I love you, too."

----------

By the time the sun was beginning to slip beneath the western horizon, Zell and the others had cleared the woods along the bottom of the canyon and were looking out on the dusty plains at the imposing red bulk of Galbadia Garden in the distance. Tomorrow would see the battle to free it from Astasia's control, a fight Zell intended to win.

Zell put the fight from his mind as Irvine walked up to him. The others were nearby, just inside the fringes of the forest making camp for the night, but far enough away that Zell knew they wouldn't hear what he and Irvine were talking about. And there were a few things he wanted to ask his friend, things that had been on his mind for a while now.

"Hey, man," he said. "Got a minute?"

"Sure," Irvine nodded.

Zell scratched his cheek. "I guess ya know about me an' Sara by now. You're not mad, are ya?"

"Mad? Zell, why would I be mad about that?"

"Well, her bein' your ex and all. I didn't know she was until she told me just the other day. Guess I never thought you'd have been with anyone other than Selphie."

Irvine shrugged. "Me either, but I was."

"So… you don't mind, then?"

Shaking his head, Irvine grinned. "Nah. Hell, it's better she's with you than with some idiot I've never met. At least this way I know she'll be alright."

"Thanks, man," Zell said.

"Not a problem. Anything else?"

There _was_ something else, but Zell wasn't sure he could say it. But ever since Sara had told him, had struggled to accept the truth of it. Irvine was a flirt and a bit of a showoff sometimes, but never a killer. At least, that was what Zell had always believed. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. He swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yeah, there is."

"Well?" Irvine prodded.

"Did you… did you do it? Kill her mom, I mean…"

For a moment, Irvine didn't answer but instead looked away, out across the plains. "Yeah, Zell. I did. So help me, man, I did."

"Why?" Zell wondered.

"It was a job. I didn't know who she was at the time. Thing is, I can't even remember pullin' the trigger. It was like I just froze up or somethin', and then a moment later the shot rang out across the slums and she was dead."

Zell shivered. "Damn…"

"Come on, let's get back to the others," Irvine muttered.

Zell didn't argue.

----------

By dawn the next morning, Sara and the others were packing up the last of their gear and preparing to move out. Nobody talked for a while, not even Zell and Seifer, whom Sara had expected would have taken any opportunity to get on each other's nerves as they so frequently did. But with the things that had happened in recent weeks, she supposed she didn't blame them for being quieter than usual. Nor did she mind.

The sky was cloudy but didn't look like it would bring rain. That was good. Sara had never cared for the rain. She looked off in the distance, where the red bulk of her old home lay shrouded in early morning gloom on the horizon. But was it really home, now? Sara wasn't so sure anymore. It would always have a place in her heart, and she would do everything she could to liberate it from her stepmother's control, but she found that she didn't want to spend her whole life there. Not now that she had seen so much more of the world than just Galbadia's russet grasslands. She wanted more than that now.

A look at Zell was enough to tell her why. Much as she loved him, she couldn't uproot him from everything he knew and cared for, even if he didn't mind the move. And while she would always have a fondness for her home Garden, there was little left for her to stay there for. She had never had many friends there aside from Irvine.

No, after this whole mess was over, Sara decided, she would transfer to Balamb Garden. She doubted Martine would mind, and neither would Zell. As willing as he was to move to Galbadia to be with her, Zell would never be as happy there as he was in Balamb. Sara understood that now, and understood as well that with all that had happened, he would likely be needed more there than in Galbadia. And where he went, Sara would go also.

But first she had to free her old home from those who had invaded it. Slapping a fresh clip into each of her two handguns, Sara twirled them for a second before slipping them into the loops she'd fitted onto the inside of her leather jacket. Then she tightened the laces of her boots and tugged the thick braid of her hair to make sure it was tight enough that it wouldn't come loose. It was. A few errant strands of her rich blond hair stuck out here and there along its length, but that was all. Her emerald eyes shone.

Zell walked up to her. "You ready?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"Yep. Soon as Quisty's set, we'll go. Man, her an' Seifer…"

Sara chuckled. "I know what you mean. It surprised me too. But then, so did you. I mean, you and me. But here we are."

"Yeah," Zell agreed.

"You alright?" Sara asked. "You seem a little quiet. Is it Lily?"

Zell nodded. "Kinda. Still hurts a lot, but I know I gotta move on. Gotta nail these bastards, for her and for everyone else we lost. But, that ain't all. I was talkin' with Irvine yesterday, an' he pretty much agreed with what you said he did to your mom. I hope you don't mind me askin', but I had to know."

"It's okay. I figured you would."

"He's pretty shook up about it, but man, I would be too. Still, I never thought he'd do somethin' like that. Guess everyone's got things they wish they never did."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. I know I do."

And she did. Zell knew more about her than anyone but Irvine and Martine, but even so she hadn't told him everything. She would do so later, though, when things had calmed down and this craziness was over. She would love him and let him in the way she should have done long ago. After spending so many hard years in Galbadia, Sara thought that Balamb would be a nice change. She would be happy there, her and Zell.

But in the meantime, she had a job to do.

----------

Some three hours later, Sara and the others burst into Galbadia Garden's main control room on the topmost level. The battle was still raging on the floors below between Martine's forces and those of Astasia Deling, but the invaders were steadily being overcome and it was only a matter of time before they were routed. The sounds of battle—blades clashing, guns firing, screams and grunts, were muffled as the doors slid shut behind Sara and the others.

She looked at their new allies—the ninja girl and the huge dark-skinned man with the gun on his arm—and couldn't help but admire their fighting prowess. They had torn through the black-clad soldiers as easily and skillfully as trained SeeDs, the shuriken and triple-barrelled gatling gun making short work of anything in their path.

Not that Sara hadn't done her part. She'd emptied several clips into the enemy ranks, hitting almost every time—her aim was almost as good as Irvine's—while Zell had punched and kicked and bodyslammed any of the soldiers that got near her. Seifer's gunblade, Quistis' whip, and Irvine's rifle had taken care of the rest. There had been more soldiers than they had anticipated and thus more of a battle even along their designated route, but they had come through it more or less unscathed. Only a few scratches here and there marked the few hits Astasia's troops had managed to get in.

"Aw, no more?" Yuffie, the ninja girl, griped.

Barret snorted. "How could there be? We whipped their sorry asses, remember?"

"We're not done yet," Quistis reminded them. "Stay sharp."

Yuffie twirled her shuriken and sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give for a good handful of materia right now..."

Sara ignored them, though she did grin a little. They _were_ an amusing duo, after all. Her smile faded, however, as she scanned the room. It was empty, which immediately struck her as odd. Where was the commander? Surely there was someone in charge. Although Sara and the others had encountered a few of Astasia's officers, she didn't think any of them had been in command. Had they? Sara looked around, suddenly uneasy.

"What's goin' on?" Zell wondered. "Where's the big boss?"

"Maybe he saw me and wimped out," Seifer smirked, cocking the trigger of his gunblade. "After all, I can be pretty intimidating."

Zell grunted. "You wish."

"Enough, you two," Quistis glared at both of them. "We don't have time for this. Obviously someone's waiting for us. The only question is who."

"Why would they leave the place unguarded?" Irvine said.

Sara knew the answer at once. "It's a trap."

"Very good," a new voice said. A woman's voice. "Very good, indeed."

Sara looked up and saw a shape slowly floating down from the auditorium's high ceiling. It was a woman, but with a pair of light gray feathered wings at either side. A sorceress. But who? The only ones that Sara knew of were Rinoa Heartilly and Edea Kramer. There weren't any others. None, that is, except one. But that was impossible. Yet as the sorceress touched down upon the ground to stand about twenty feet away, Sara recognized her immediately.

It was Astasia Deling.

"You," Sara's eyes narrowed.

"What the hell?" Zell stared unbelievingly. "We killed you!"

Astasia sneered. "Did you?"

"I shot you myself," Sara said, bringing up her guns. "In the head, at point blank range. I watched you die, Astasia."

"You saw only what I wanted you to see."

Sara froze. "What?"

"One of my talents as a sorceress happens to be the gift of illusion. The woman you killed was not, in fact, me. A double, crafted of flesh and magic, for that very purpose. A gift to me from Gravheine, to aid in wiping out any resistance here."

"Oh yeah?" Barret growled. "We got your troops on the run, bitch!"

Astasia scoffed. "Hardly. Those are but a fraction of what will come when I give the word. I have more than men at my command. The shadows even now beginning to pour forth into the world will heed my call. The mighty Serpent's children are mine to unleash!"

"Go ahead," Seifer brought up his gunblade. "We'll cut 'em down to size for ya!"

Sara tightened her fingers on the triggers of her guns and swore under her breath, cursing her foolishness. It had been right in front of her the whole time, yet she had never even seen it. A sorceress couldn't die until she had passed on her powers—it was part of their nature—and yet she had killed Astasia's double and not even thought its ease the slightest bit strange. The realization of her mistake arose in Sara a cold fury that filled her entire being. She wasn't sure if she was mad at herself or at Astasia or both. Maybe it didn't matter.

She aimed her guns squarely at Astasia's head. "I killed you once. I can do it again."

"By all means," Astasia goaded, "try!"

Sara fired, both guns going off simultaneously, the shots deafening in her ears. Her aim was true, but in the split second after she fired, Astasia whipped her arm up in front her, palm out, and the bullets skittered away less than a foot from her as though they had hit an invisible wall. In their wake, an arc of bluish energy rippled through the air for a moment and was gone. Astasia smiled cruelly but did not lower her arm. "You'll find I am considerably stronger than my double was, Sara. Perhaps too strong for you to overcome."

"We'll see about that."

"Why all the elaborate setups, Astasia?" Quistis demanded.

The sorceress looked at her. "I knew SeeD would come after me sooner or later. With my decoy's demise, Caraway and Martine have drawn out their forces, everything they have, to wipe out what they think is left of my own. But I will unleash Seddhira's demons upon them and devour them, just when they think they've won. And Galbadia will be mine."

"What then?"

"Why, I should think it obvious. Gravheine thinks she is in control, but I'll soon rob her of that delusion. And her life. Once I have control here, I will ride the shadows to Esthar and destroy her _and_ her Queen. And, of course, SeeD. In the end, I'll have control over not one, but both worlds! All creation will bow to _me!_"

"You sure have a vivid imagination," Seifer snickered.

Sara ignored them, quickly dumping her clips and reaching inside her jacket for another pair that held bullets she'd had specially made for dealing with magically-empowered enemies. She didn't know if they would be enough to break Astasia's barrier, but she didn't have any choice but to try. She slammed the clips into place, first one and then the other, and hoped fervently that they would work. They were a little like Irvine's pulse ammo but with a tighter beam and a much smaller blast radius.

Astasia glared at him. "Imagine _this!_"

She thrust her arm up above her, calling out in a language that Sara guessed was Centran. Bracing herself, Sara looked around but nothing seemed to change. What was going on? Again, Astasia called out, frustration evident in her voice, but her summons again was ignored. Nothing happened. No shadows, no creeping horrors, emerged to do her bidding. There was only Astasia, standing there and struggling to call forth minions that would not come.

Seifer laughed. "Having a little trouble there?"

"Impossible!" Astasia snarled. "What's going on? Why aren't they coming?"

"They don't answer to you," Sara said, understanding at once. "Only their Queen can command them. And she doesn't share power with anyone."

Astasia's eyes blazed. "No!"

Sara fired again, this time with the energy bullets. They sped at Astasia in streaks of bluish-white like a pair of miniature comets, and this time when she thrust her arm in front her, they didn't stop. The barrier shattered like a wall of glass. One bullet sheared through Astasia's wrist while the other slammed into her collarbone. She staggered back as she was suddenly peppered with more bullets, this time from Barret.

A blur of twirling steel that was Yuffie's shuriken flew past Sara's face to slice across Astastia's shoulder with its razor tips, and Zell and Seifer went charging in side by side, fists and gunblade hitting and slashing, while Quistis lashed out with her whip and Irvine blasted away with his rifle. Sara fired again, leaping aside as she did so to dodge the bright green ball of flame that Astasia hurled back at her. It singed her ear a little but that was all.

Astasia shot up into the air and dove like some hellish bird of prey, flinging fireballs and forks of lighting and floating chunks of earth at Sara and the others. Smoke clouded the room and stung Sara's eyes as she fired. One of the bullets grazed Astasia's leg, but the other missed, and she disappeared momentarily into the swirling grayness. Sara could hear the others as they fought Astasia, but they were only dark shapes around her, now. The smoke shouldn't have been so thick, but maybe it was another of Astasia's tricks.

Suddenly she was there, right in front of Sara's startled eyes, diving low and thrusting out with both hands, her dark eyes glowing with hate. A pair of green fireballs slammed Sara in the chest and threw her across the room until she crashed into the wall and slumped down at its base in a bruised, blackened heap. She struggled to get to her feet, but Astasia seized her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. Sara's guns clattered to the floor.

Astasia leered at the others, visible now as the smoke began to clear. "If you wish her to die, by all means keep fighting."

"Let her go!" Zell roared.

Sara strained to breathe. She tried to pry Astasia's fingers from around her neck, but the woman's grip was like iron. Sara wished she'd been able to hold onto her weapons, but they lay uselessly on the floor below her feet, well out of reach. But maybe there was another way. Her guns weren't her only armaments, after all.

"Not yet," Astasia said. "I have special plans for my dear daughter."

"I'm not your daughter!" Sara growled.

Astasia sniffed. "You're close enough, Sara. Blood alone doesn't define a family."

Letting one hand fall to her side, Sara reached slowly toward her leg and pulled her foot up as quietly as she could, hoping Astasia wouldn't notice. "It sure helps, though."

"Perhaps. But it won't make a difference in your case."

"Why's that?" Sara asked, more to buy herself time than because she was interested.

Astasia let one hand go from her neck and stretched it out toward the others, flickers of magic swirling around her fingers as she called forth another spell. "Because, I'm going to kill you. But first, you'll have the pleasure of watching your friends die."

She whipped her arm out, and suddenly huge spikes of ice shot up from the ground, exploding in roiling waves of cold that sent Zell and the others sprawling. Astasia's gaze was locked onto them, and she held her hand out, palm up this time, and a swirl of dark energy pulsed and danced above her fingers. At the same time, Sara's own fingers found what she was looking for, the handle of the slim dagger she wore on the inside of her boot.

In a flash, she pulled it out and plunged it between Astasia's ribs. "The only one dying today is you, you bitch!"

Astasia gasped and clutched at the dagger, dropping Sara and losing control over the magic as she did so. The dark energy disippated into nothingness as the others got up. Sara rubbed at her throat and took in several deep breaths as Zell rushed to her. "Sara! You okay?"

"I'll be alright," she nodded.

She got up with Zell's help and turned to see Astasia staggering against the wall, blood soaking the front of her white and violet robes and leaking from the side of her mouth. Her breath came in a series of painful gasps as she looked balefully at Sara. Yet there was a cold, knowing smile upon her lips that Sara didn't like.

Astasia managed a weak laugh. "So, you… bested me after all…"

"Shouldn't have gone and messed with us, baby!" Yuffie punched the air and grinned.

"Laugh if you want. But so will I. I'm dying, but… I… will curse you… before I'm gone. You know… the burden… I speak of…"

Quistis lowered her whip. "Your powers."

"Exactly. So… which of you… will accept them? And become… as I am? A sorceress… to be feared and hated… for the rest of your life…"

"I will," Sara said.

Zell's eyes widened. "No! Don't do it, Sara!"

"One of us has to, Zell, and it might as well be me. Astasia can't die until she's passed on her powers, and I'm the best choice to take them."

"But—"

Quistis shook her head. "You heard her, Zell. She's made her decision."

"You sure about this?" Irvine looked at Sara.

"Yeah," she answered. "It's not something I want, but I have to finish things with Astasia. It… it's a family matter. This is just something I have to do."

Zell sighed. "You okay with bein' a sorceress, Sara?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Without waiting for him to answer, Sara turned back to Astasia and nodded. The other woman's body relaxed, and her eyes closed. Energy rose from her body in a purplish haze and dove into Sara's with an almost human shriek. Sara jerked as her blood suddenly burned and fire raced beneath her skin. Astasia's body collapsed to the floor and crumbled to dust, but Sara was hardly aware of it as she doubled over and tried to stay on her feet. She felt Zell's arms suddenly latching onto her and holding her up, and she clung to him tightly as the power surged and roiled within her until it finally subsided to a faint warmth in her veins, a tingling sensation that she knew would always be there.

She had become a sorceress.

"You alright?" Zell asked.

Sara opened her eyes, unaware that she had closed them, and nodded wearily. "Yeah. I'll be fine, Zell, but…"

"What is it?"

"I… I'm not going to end up like her, am I? Like Astasia?"

"Hell no! There's good sorceresses too, Sara. Like Matron and Rinoa. So just try and be like them. I'm sure they'll help you out, too."

If anyone could, it would be them. Sara had no idea what it meant to be a sorceress, or what she was supposed to do with her powers. She could feel them inside her but had little idea of how to use them. Another reason to move to Balamb. She was sure Matron and Rinoa could help her. But right now, she had other things that had to be done.

Sara straightened, feeling a little stronger now. "Yeah. But we'll worry about that later. We've got to get the Garden moving."

"What about Astasia's forces?" Seifer asked.

"Martine should be able to handle them," Sara said. "Astasia's reinforcements aren't coming anytime soon, so without them what's left shouldn't be much of a problem to clean up. Still, maybe we should help him out."

Quistis shook her head. "He's a SeeD headmaster. He'll be fine."

"So let's get this bucket movin'," Irvine drawled. "Squall and the rest are gonna need us over in Esthar pronto, so let's go!"

While the others moved around the room to get things underway and Quistis contacted Xu, Sara drifted off to one side, slipping her guns back into her jacket and retrieving her dagger. Astasia really was dead this time, of that Sara had no doubt. But a part of her would live on, in the form of the sorceress power. It was a burden Sara had taken upon herself, but still, she knew it wouldn't be easy. She wondered if she was up to it.

"You'll be okay," Zell assured her.

Sara turned. She hadn't heard him approach. "Thanks. I hope you're right."

She didn't get to hear whatever response he might have said, though, for at that moment the walls rumbled and the whirring of machinery filled the air as Galbadia Garden rose into the air and began its transformation. The auditorium walls shifted and realigned as a new control panel rose up from the floor at the near end of the room. Sara saw it was a navigation console. The auditorium had become the bridge of the flying fortress. Wasting no time, she took control of the console and began manipulating the various buttons and levers.

Slowly but surely, Galbadia Garden flew east.


	30. Before the Storm

**Chapter 29  
Before the Storm**

Ellone sat in the Garden's infirmary, her friends standing grim-faced and quiet around her, as Dr. Kadowaki confirmed what many already knew. Squall's face was a thunderhead as he listened, his blue-grey eyes narrow. He hadn't spoken much to her since the flight back here, and she was sure it had to do with Vincent, who stood silently nearby. Squall's reaction didn't surprise her, but she did wish that he would trust her. She knew what she was doing.

"You're sure about this?" Squall asked when the doctor had finished.

Kadowaki nodded. "There's no doubt about it. She's dying, Squall. At best, I'd say she has until sometime late tomorrow afternoon."

Ellone, who had already concluded as much, said nothing. Neither did anyone else at first. She knew what it meant. Ready or not, recovered or not, she would have to confront Gravheine and her Queen tomorrow. Her heart felt like a frozen lump in her chest, and a chill was slowly spreading into her shoulders and stomach. Whenever she stood up, it was all she could do to keep from feeling dizzy.

"What's causing it?" Squall demanded.

"From what I can tell," Kadowaki explained, "it's clear she did die out there in Trabia, just as she said. The entry and exit wounds are there, and the way they're positioned leaves no doubt that the blade went through her heart. Something closed those wounds for a while, but now they've opened again. I bandaged her, but I don't think the bleeding is going to stop."

Uncle Laguna looked at her pleadingly. "Surely there's somethin' you can do, isn't there?"

"I wish there was. But the energy that's been holding her tissues together and keeping her heart going is starting to dissipate. In essence, she's been on a kind of biological life support system ever since this Atrus brought her back."

"Life energy…" Cloud mused. "You mean spirit energy? The lifestream?"

Kadowaki shrugged. "I wouldn't know about that, but it sounds right. I think the only way to save her would be to replenish that energy somehow."

"Wouldn't it just run out again?" Tifa wondered.

It was Ellone who answered this time. "Not if it was given from a living source. Atrus was just a spirit, so he didn't have enough energy to bring me back permanently. And even if he had been alive, I don't think he would have been able to. I was dead, and that can't just be undone as if it never happened. Not… not without a price…"

"What do you mean?"

Ellone understood then with a chilling certainty what it would cost to save her, and she shivered. She couldn't ask that of anyone. And she understood now why it was that Atrus was fading along with her. It was the choice he had made, the choice to save her, to give of himself that she might save the woman he loved and so many others.

Her voice was a whisper as she spoke. "A life for a life…"

"You mean…?" Squall began.

Ellone nodded. "For me to live, someone else would have to die."

"I guess that'll be me, then," Uncle Laguna knelt in front of her. "You've still got a lot of life ahead of you, Elle, and I couldn't bear to see you lose it."

"No! I won't let you do that! Not any of you!"

He took her hands. "But… but we can't just do nothing!"

Ellone squeezed them tight. "I'm afraid that's all you _can_ do. It wouldn't be right for me to let you or anyone else to make that choice."

"Even if we wanted to?"

"Even so. I won't let you do it, Uncle Laguna. Normally only a Centra can, anyway, I think. But I could probably make the transfer myself if I had to. I'm a Centra, after all, and my power is a lot stronger than it used to be."

Matron Edea, who sat next to her, slipped an arm around her shoulder. "But you won't. Your heart is too gentle to ask anyone to make such a sacrifice."

"I won't," Ellone agreed quietly.

"Then do what you've sworn to do, what you alone can do. Put an end to the shadow looming in the east. But in the meantime, is there anything we _can_ do for you?"

Ellone nodded. "Help me tomorrow. Help me stop Gravheine."

"We will," Cloud promised.

"You can count on it," Rinoa added, sitting on her other side. "Besides, like Matron said, you're going to need me when you face her. I'll be there."

Squall nodded. "Just do what you have to do, Sis. We'll take care of the rest."

"You guys…" Ellone couldn't help blushing a little.

"Zell and the rest will probably head back this way once they've finished clearing out Galbadia Garden, so they may show up tomorrow as well."

Cid grunted as he leaned against the wall. "Gonna be one a helluva party."

Tifa turned to Dr. Kadowaki. "You aren't planning to make me stay behind again, are you? Because I'll have to sneak out if you do."

"No, I don't suppose I could keep you here," she smiled. "Just be careful, you hear?"

"I will. And thank you."

Ellone smiled. She'd heard about Tifa's baby on the way back—Cloud had mentioned it to her when she had asked where she was—and while Dr. Kadowaki had been looking her over, Ellone had listened to Tifa tell her of her pregnancy and its unique difficulties. Fortunately, the doctor had proven as resourceful as Ellone had known she would be and had developed a treatment for Tifa that would render the alien cells in the baby harmless.

It involved daily injections for the rest of the pregnancy, but it was a small price to pay. Tifa had almost broken down, so overcome with joy upon realizing that she wasn't going to lose her child after all. Cloud's moodiness had soon vanished upon hearing the news, and Ellone even thought she saw him smile just a little bit once or twice. One other thing Dr. Kadowaki had cautioned Tifa about was that the delivery could be difficult because she had no way of knowing how or if the alien cells would affect the baby's birthing instincts. But that was a worry for a later time and one that would be dealt with when it happened.

Ellone looked at her friends as something else came to mind and her voice hardened ever so slightly. "Actually, there is one other thing you guys can do for me. Could you give me a moment alone with Squall? My brother and I need to talk."

"Of course," Matron agreed.

She and the others filed out of the room, and soon only Squall was left. Ellone rose to her feet, a little light-headed but determined not to show it. She couldn't let Squall think her condition might be affecting her judgement. It wasn't, but he would still claim otherwise. Anything to try and convince her not to be with Vincent.

Ellone spoke first. "You don't like him."

"You saw that thing he turned into, Sis," he said. "He could've killed you."

"He saved me! Underneath all of that, it's still him in there. He's still in control of himself, even when he's changed. Vincent's never hurt me before, and no matter what form he's in, he never will. He loves me, Squall. And I love him."

Squall grimaced. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ellone wondered.

"I think you're letting your feelings blind you to what he is, Ellone. No matter how nice he may treat you, there's a part of him that's still wild. I don't think he'd ever hurt you on purpose—even I can see that he cares for you—but that other side of him worries me. He might lose control and do something I'd rather not have him do."

Ellone folded her arms in front of her. "That's my risk to take, Squall. Not yours."

"I think you're making a mistake," Squall told her.

"It wouldn't be the first time, Hyne knows. I thought you'd be happy for me, Squall! Happy that after all I've been through, I've finally found someone like you found Rinoa. I know how much she means to you. Can't you give me the same chance? Can't you trust me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Sis, it's just that I know what I saw! And I can't believe you're still so fond of him after you saw the same thing! He didn't look so different then from some of those demons we fought. He's a mon—"

Ellone's hand lashed out before she even knew it was moving. "Don't you _dare_ call him that! You have no idea what he's been through. You couldn't possibly understand."

For a moment Squall just stood there staring at her unbelievingly, his hand touching his cheek where she had slapped him. "Sis…"

"I never told you this before, never told anyone, but there have been times over the years when I thought of _myself_ as a monster. Because of my power, that stupid ability I was born with that Adel and Odine and Ultimecia all wanted. My parents were killed, Odine kidnapped me and experimented on me, and I had to leave the orphanage and spend ten years alone on that ship with the White SeeDs, all because of my power. A burden I never asked for and never wanted. Does having that power make me something to fear, a freak to be put down or locked away? Is that what you think?"

"Of course not! But I—"

Ellone sighed. "Vincent and I aren't so very different as you might think, Squall. Just because his power is a little easier to see than mine doesn't make him any less human. We've both suffered for our abilities and had our lives drastically changed because of it. So I understand him because I've been where he's been. And he understands me for the same reason."

"I was just worried about you, Sis," Squall said.

"I know. But you don't have to. I don't have much time left, anyway. At least let me have some happiness before the end. Alright?"

Squall nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But be careful."

"I will. I promise."

"I'm still going to keep an eye on him, though. Just in case. Rinoa says it's stupid—she was getting on me about this, too, earlier—but I can't help it."

Ellone shrugged. "Do what you want, Squall. Just leave us be, okay?"

"Okay," he managed a faint, shaky ghost of a smile. "Between you and Rinoa, I guess there's no way I can win this one."

"You bet," Ellone laughed.

She hugged him, then turned to gather her things. Dr. Kadowaki had said that there was no need for her to stay in the infirmary so long as she did nothing too strenuous. Ellone was glad for that, because a quiet evening with Vincent was much preferable to staying here all night. Picking up her bladestaff, which she had leaned against the wall upon first coming here, Ellone paused for a moment. Then she reached down the front of her blouse and brought out the white materia. It glowed softly, warm in her hand.

"What's that?" Squall asked.

"The last piece of the puzzle," Ellone answered, as much to herself as to him.

Ignoring his confused expression, she placed the little orb firmly into a concave slot embedded in the middle of the bladestaff's slim shaft. As she did so, the runes and scrollwork engraved on the blades flared to life, so brightly Ellone thought she would be blinded. The materia flashed as well, looking like a miniature star, and its light enveloped Ellone and dove into her. She trembled and would have fallen had Squall not caught her, but he was distant, far away. The light was Ellone's world, and the warmth that chased away a little of the cold in her body. Not entirely, but some, and it flowed through her and held her wounds closed again, if just for a little longer. What was happening?

Ellone heard Squall calling to her, but then she was lost in the light.

----------

_What's going on?_

_Ellone! Good, I was hoping I'd be able to reach you again. Like I said before, it's harder now that you're closer to the end._

_Right, I remember. It's good to hear from you again, Atrus._

_I'm glad you're alright. I saw what happened. I would have reached you sooner but for those men and what they did to you. I'm sorry you had to go through that._

_It's alright, it's over. My friends saved me. But what happened just now?_

_My guess is, the white materia reacted somehow to the bladestaff—they were always meant to be one, you know. But through it I got to you, and helped you a little._

_Helped me?_

_Maybe it's because of the materia, but I was able to give a little more of my power to heal you. It won't last, and when it fades you'll be very weak, but it should keep you strong until sometime tomorrow, long enough for you to deal with Gravheine._

_Atrus, thank you…_

_You're welcome. I just want us to have as good a chance at succeeding as we can._

_I know. So do I._

_Also, I wanted you to be able to enjoy this last night of yours. I'm happy you've found someone, Ellone. It's only fair you get a chance to be with him while you still can._

_Atrus!_

_Are you blushing? I loved once, too, remember? I know what it's like._

_Right, I just… well, I hadn't even thought about… about that sort of thing. I guess I just never expected to be in that kind of situation, that's all._

_I'm sure you'll do fine. Both tonight and tomorrow._

_Hah, hah! Very funny, Atrus._

_I always did have a pretty good sense of humor. It was one of the things Gravheine liked most about me, I think. But I do mean what I said._

_I'm sure you do. Thanks, I… I guess we'll find out._

_Go to him, Ellone. And tomorrow, take care of Gravheine. One way or the other._

_I will._

_I wish I could have saved you fully, but I'm sure you understand by now why I couldn't. And what would happen if anyone else tried._

_Yes, I know._

_Still, there may be someone who can help you. I don't know that she will, but I'll do everything I can to convince her. It'll help her, too, I think._

_No, Atrus, don't let anyone die just to save me!_

_We'll see, Ellone. We'll see._

----------

Ellone stumbled backwards as the light receded and reality returned in a rush. Squall caught her and helped her stay on her feet. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said.

She actually was, too. Or better than she had been, at least. The cold ache in her chest wasn't gone entirely, but it was very faint, the pain distant enough that she could ignore it. Letting go of Squall's arm, Ellone felt none of her earlier dizziness. She felt fine. Motioning for Squall to leave, she put down the bladestaff and began untucking her blouse. There was something else she had to see, although she had a fairly good idea of what she would find.

When her brother was gone and she was alone, Ellone pulled off her blouse and looked cautiously down at the patch of white cloth that Dr. Kadowaki had fastened over the left side of her chest, where Sa'miel's blade had punched out of her that fateful night so many weeks ago. Had it been that long? Already it seemed like something out of a dream, only she knew it had been no dream. It had been real, and she had died back there.

The bandage was dark with blood, but when she carefully pulled it away, the wound had knit itself closed again. She could still see it, a thin white line just above her breast and a little to the left of her sternum, but it was no longer bleeding. Ellone was willing to bet that the wound in her back, where the blade had gone in, was also closed. She took that bandage off as well, wiped herself off with a clean cloth, and tugged her blouse back on.

Atrus had given her a boost, albeit a temporary one. Still, it would help Ellone a great deal with what she had to do tomorrow. She had worried a little about how she would be able to fight Gravheine and possibly Seddhira if she couldn't even stand up without feeling like the world was spinning around her like a top. Ellone felt a little better about her chances now, although she knew she would be extremely vulnerable once the healing wore off.

And then there was Vincent. Ellone's cheeks flamed to even think of what she might possibly do with him tonight, now that she actually felt strong enough to do such things. But if she was going to die tomorrow—and she had come to accept that she would—she might as well make the most of the time she had left. She didn't know the first thing about romance, though, being so new to it herself. She would need a little help.

With that in mind, Ellone left the infirmary and went looking for Rinoa.

----------

Laguna hadn't meant to be alone with Edea, but somehow after leaving Elle and Squall together to talk about whatever it was they were going to talk about, everyone else had left the infirmary but Dr. Kadowaki, who had walked off down the hall and stepped into her little office near the main entrance, leaving Laguna alone with a woman he wasn't sure he wanted to be alone with. Yet here he was, and so was she.

They walked down the hall in silence, Laguna not really sure where they were going but content to follow Edea's lead. Now that he was alone with her, he realized he didn't want the moment to end just yet. His knee hadn't twinged yet, but he did feel a little anxious nevertheless. After a while, he realized that he and Edea were heading toward Sariese's room. Of course. Edea had practically been living there ever since the baby was born.

Laguna followed her inside. "Man, I can't believe it…"

"I know," Edea murmured. "I love her, too, Laguna. But Ellone has made her choice. We must respect that."

"Losing Kiros an' Ward was bad enough, but Elle…"

Suddenly he felt Edea's arms slide around him. "I know how hard this has been on you. Let it out, if you wish."

Laguna blinked, not sure if he'd heard right. But then he understood. He'd held it back, mostly out of shock and disbelief and the fact that it would have been embarrassing had anyone seen him cry. But he'd just lost his two best friends, men he'd fought beside more times than he could count and who he'd known for over twenty years. But if it had just been that, he could have gotten by without breaking down.

But then there was Elle. His little Elle. He'd gladly die to save her, but she'd made up her mind not to allow it. How could she be so resigned to her fate? How could she not fight it? But as he thought about it, Laguna realized that it was something she couldn't escape, not without sacrificing someone else's life, an act he knew she would never do. She was doing what she could to protect those she cared for, even if it meant dying to do so. She was going to at least go out fighting, which Laguna thought he could accept.

He was fiercely proud of her, and yet he was also heartbroken. He didn't want her to die, not when her whole life was ahead of her. She was only in her mid-twenties, although Laguna found it hard to believe even that. He still thought of her as his little Elle and struggled to reconcile that image with the beautiful young woman she had become. Laguna wanted more than anything for her to be happy, really happy. After so much trial and heartache, she deserved it. And yet after all she had given, she was being asked to give still more. She was to give her very life. Angrily, Laguna wondered how that could possibly be fair.

There were so many things, he thought, that she would never be able to do that he had always hoped she would. He would never see her marry, never see her raise a family of her own. Laguna had longed more than anything for her to make him a grandfather, for her to have simple things like a husband and children and the same kind of happiness that he had enjoyed with her and Raine so many years ago. Was that so much to ask? After twenty years of being hunted like an animal, was it too much for Ellone to be granted a little peace?

The thought that his little Elle would never truly have those things was what finally broke Laguna. He let a long, shuddering sob wrack through him as he clung to Edea, and although he didn't truly weep, tears did leak from his eyes. He rested his head against her shoulder for a while, and she just held him and said nothing.

After a while, Laguna straightened and ran a hand shakily through his hair. "Ah, sorry about that. It just sorta, you know, came out…"

"It's alright," Edea smiled. "Do you feel better?"

"A little. Thanks."

Edea nodded. "You're welcome. I thought you might need to let it out."

"I guess I did," Laguna agreed.

He realized he was still in her arms, and suddenly his throat went dry. Her body was warm against his, and very soft. He wanted to touch her cheek but didn't dare. How could he even think that? She was still grieving for her husband Cid, and the last thing Laguna wanted was to get in the way. He knew what it was like to lose a spouse. Yet even so, the feel of her so close was intoxicating. No wonder Cid Kramer had fallen for her. At that thought, Laguna quickly stepped away from her and looked away. His eyes found the floor.

"What's wrong?" Edea asked.

Laguna didn't look at her. "It… it doesn't feel right. Me an' you, bein' so close. I mean, I know you're still hurtin' about Cid."

"I am, but… I still care for you, Laguna."

"I don't want to be disrespectful, that's all. 'Cause, I… well, um… I care about you, too. Maybe… maybe too much…"

Damn. He'd said more than he should have, yet he hadn't been able to avoid baring his heart to her. The words had sort of just tumbled out. Laguna's cheeks flamed, and he was sure he had offended her. He had all but admitted to falling in love with her. What was she going to think of that? Laguna kept his gaze away from her, not wanting to see what she might be feeling and afraid that it might not be good.

Yet when her hand gently took him by the chin and turned him back to her, Laguna saw no anger in her eyes, no hurt. But what _was_ there was something he could hardly believe. She was smiling, a small, sad smile that made him blink in wonder.

Edea's eyes were kind as she looked at him. "I thought it was just me…"

"W-What?" Laguna stammered.

"I must admit, I feel perhaps more strongly for you than I should. Maybe you were right. Maybe we allowed ourselves to grow too close. But I don't mind."

Laguna stared at her. "You don't?"

"No. But I do think it is too soon. Perhaps one day we can explore our feelings together, but… not yet. I need some time, Laguna. To let go."

"Sure, I can understand that. I still miss Raine, you know?"

Edea nodded. "The ones we love are always with us, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Laguna agreed. "Always."

"My heart is still with Cid, and it will always be so. But I wouldn't mind sharing it with you one day, when the time is right."

Laguna's heart skipped a beat. "I can wait until then. It's cool."

Edea did something then that stole Laguna's breath away. She came up to him, took his hands in hers, and brushed her lips lightly across his cheek. The kiss lasted only a moment, but the moist softness of her lips was enough to set his heart racing. When she finally pulled away, he tentatively touched the place where she had kissed him. Had she really done that? Laguna could hardly believe it, but his skin was damp where her lips had been. He looked at her in wonder, unable to find any words, rendered for once utterly speechless.

She looked at him fondly. "You are a good man, Laguna Loire."

Laguna didn't say anything for a moment, still too overcome yet to speak. But he knew he would wait for her. He would wait as long it took. In the meantime, he had Esthar to look to. By now those things from the tower would have reached the city, but he and Kiros had already prepared for that eventuality. During the flight back to Garden after Laguna had surrendered himself to Odine, Kiros had sent word to Piet not only to modify the glitch on the mechs but also to begin ordering an evacuation to the surrounding mountains.

The caves there had long been tunneled out and restructured with duranium walls and doors and stocked with plenty of foodstuffs and supplies in case such an emergency ever arose. By now, Laguna knew, most of the civilians would be in those underground shelters, structures he had had built shortly after the recent Sorceress War and the Lunar Cry that had so devastated the city during that time with its flood of monsters.

Estharian troops were engaging the enemy even now, from what Laguna had heard on the way back here. He felt like he should be there, with his people in the city, but they were an efficient lot, highly skilled and fiercely loyal. Knowing as they did now from his own recent transmissions that he was alright but that Kiros and Ward were gone, they would fight all the harder. Laguna had never been more proud of them. Several detachments had been ordered to march south to aid in the assault on the tower, as well.

He would have his own job to do tomorrow, commanding the _Ragnarok_ and leading the aerial assault alongside Cid and the _Shera_ while Edea lead Balamb Garden in the attack on the plains and Elle and the rest took care of business inside the tower. The Garden's slower flight speed would make the convoy's journey to Esthar take longer, but Laguna and Squall had agreed that it would be better not to split up their forces and send the faster airships ahead. Strength in numbers was what Laguna and his son both hoped for.

Laguna shook off his thoughts, smiled at Edea, and took his leave of her.

----------

Vincent stood in the hall just outside the infirmary while Ellone talked with Squall. He had a pretty good idea of what it was they were discussing. Him. But he knew better than to interfere. This was something for Ellone to do, so Vincent simply waited outside while Cloud and the others moved on. Tifa looked back at him for a moment and smiled knowingly, but that was all. Soon she and the rest were gone, and Vincent was alone.

About ten minutes later, however, the doors to the infirmary hissed open and Squall came out. He nodded once to Vincent, wary but resigned. So, Ellone had set him straight. Good. Squall said nothing, though, but instead walked on down the hall and out of sight. Vincent watched him go, not at all surprised at the outcome of the discussion. He could understand Squall's hesitation to trust him—he wasn't the first to look at him that way, nor would he likely be the last—but he had known that he wouldn't press his sister too hard, especially considering her condition. Ellone had clearly taken advantage of that.

She herself appeared a moment later, stepping out the infirmary more surely than she had since she had been rescued. She looked stronger, not quite so pale as before. Something had happened in there, Vincent realized. Something more than just a talk with her brother. Before he could ask, Ellone smiled, slid her arms around him, noticed his questioning gaze, and explained to him how she had bonded the white materia to the bladestaff and how Atrus had used that power to temporarily restore some of her strength for the battle ahead.

"That should help," Vincent said.

Ellone nodded. "Yeah. But enough about that. I thought that, since this is probably going to be my last night, we could spend some of it together."

"I'd like that."

"Me, too. Why don't you meet me later, okay?"

Vincent looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Well, I need to get ready and all. It's a girl thing, sorry. Why don't you come to my quarters in about an hour?"

"Alright. I'll be there."

He kissed her and walked off, not really sure what he was going to do in the meantime but supposing it wouldn't really matter. His footsteps took him out of the Garden's curving halls and into the open air of Fisherman's Horizon. Not far away, the _Shera_ was docked at a nearby pier. Vincent strode over and boarded the airship, winding his way through the decks and past WRO crewmen and technicians prepping the ship for tomorrow's assault.

Vincent emerged onto the bridge a short time later to find Cloud, Tifa, and Cid Highwind all there. Cid was, as usual, at the helm, while Cloud and Tifa stood towards the front, looking out through the transparent dome at the rolling seas ahead of them to the east. The sky was darkening toward night, the eastern horizon already almost black. Overhead, though, and behind, the last of the sun's light still lingered.

"Everything alright?" Tifa asked.

Vincent nodded. "Ellone's recovered some of her strength, and she and her brother have reached an understanding."

"So what are you doing here?"

"What?"

Tifa smiled. "Why aren't you with Elle?"

"I will be, later. She's getting ready. But it's odd, trying to relax when the world's threatening to fall apart around you."

"I don't think it's that. She just wants to spend a little time with you."

Vincent nodded. "I see."

A huge grin split Cid's lips. "Well if that don't beat all! I never figured you had an eye for the ladies, Vince! Guess that girl must really be somethin', eh?"

"She is," Vincent agreed.

"So what are you going to do?" Tifa asked.

Vincent shrugged. "I don't know. She said to meet her at her quarters in an hour."

"Oh, that sounds like a dinner date. Cloud and I are going to head off soon ourselves, we were just finishing up a few things here first."

"I see. Enjoy yourselves."

Tifa laughed. "We will. I hope you do, too."

"I will," Vincent assured her.

"You're not going in _that,_ are you?" she asked suddenly.

Vincent frowned. "What?"

She was looking at his clothes. What was wrong with them? Vincent wore his usual attire, which he had never given much thought to until now. A reinforced kevlar shirt, tough leather pants, a pair of thick leather boots and a wide belt, buckled elbow-length gauntlets, and his high-collared cape with its torn edges. Everything was black save for the cape, which was red. His clothes had served him well enough and he had never felt any need to change them. What was Tifa getting on about now?

"You've got to look nicer than that if you're going to be spending time alone with a girl, Vincent. Haven't you ever done this before?"

"It's been a long time."

Cloud's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Obviously. Maybe you should help him out, Tif. I'll meet you in our quarters later."

He left without another word, and Vincent turned away from watching him go to see Tifa looking critically at him, her lips pursed, while Cid smirked from his place at the helm and struggled not to explode into a fit of hysterical laughter. His eyes danced, though, as he worked. The bridge crew said nothing, although Vincent was sure that they would talk amongst themselves about it later. It was just the way things were.

"Come on, Vincent," Tifa winked. "We've got to make you look good for Elle."

Cid chuckled. "And if you're lucky, you won't have to spend the night on the ship. Go get 'er, Vince! You sly old dog!"

Vincent frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Tifa laughed. "Cid's just being Cid. Let's go."

----------

About an hour later, Vincent was standing outside the door to Ellone's quarters on the Garden. Tifa had dragged him into town and helped him find some new clothes, a task he still didn't quite understand the reasoning for even though she had explained it to him more than once. He had bought them anyway, a little surprised that any shops would still be open given the current crisis. But then, it hadn't really touched this place yet. Vincent had seen an ominous gathering of dark clouds far off in the distance just above the eastern horizon, but that was all.

At least his new outfit was something he could live with. Like his old clothes, his new ones were all black and red, his preferred colors. He still had his old gear, but it was back on the _Shera_ in one of the storage lockers, as well as a few extra things he had picked up for tomorrow—ammo, potions, and a few pinches of phoenix down, which like smelling salts could revive someone who had been rendered unconscious.

Vincent rang the door chime and tried not to feel self-conscious in the clothes he wore, although they were close enough in style to his old outfit that he supposed it wouldn't take too much getting used to. Black pants with a matching pair of leather boots—smaller and softer than his old ones—and a black leather belt, a collared button-down shirt of deep red, and a black leather coat with a high collar and which hung down almost to his boots. He'd grown so used to his cape that he would have felt naked without something hanging from his shoulders. He still had his thick red headband, though—it kept his hair out of his eyes.

His thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, however, when the door finally opened and he saw Ellone. She had done some preparing as well, and it showed. She wore a slim, shoulderless evening dress of dark blue satin, modestly cut but still low enough that Vincent could appreciate the view. Her rich brown hair was piled at the back of her head in an elegant little bun, and a pair of small silver earrings dangled from her ears—it was the first time Vincent could recall seeing her wear any sort of jewelry. Her cheeks were pink with rouge, her eyes finely accented with eyeshadow, and her lips dark with lipstick. The scent of perfume—a floral aroma that might have been lilacs—gently teased Vincent's nostrils.

"You look beautiful…" he breathed.

Ellone blushed. "Thanks. I'm not used to getting all dressed up like this."

"It suits you."

And it did, although Vincent thought that beautiful was a woefully inadequate term to describe how she looked. For the first time, though, words failed him, so he let it be. For a long moment he just looked at her, his heart pounding, and then he remembered the other thing Tifa had insisted that he get. It had made little sense to him, but then again, so had getting new clothes. Why give Ellone something that wouldn't last?

He had asked Tifa that, but she had only shaken her head hopelessly and smiled, assuring him that it was worth doing. Cloud always brought some flowers to her from time to time—often he'd have some for her when he came back from a delivery—so she had immediately made the suggestion to Vincent upon noticing a florist among the shops that she had dragged him off to. He still didn't understand it, but if it would make Ellone happy, he didn't mind doing it. So here he was, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand. At least Cid and Yuffie couldn't see him—they would never have let him live it down if they had.

Vincent handed Ellone the bundle of blossoms. "Here."

"Oh, my," she gasped, taking the flowers, an assortment of all kinds and colors, "you shouldn't have! They're wonderful."

"It was Tifa's idea. I'm glad you like them, though."

Ellone smiled. "I love them! Thank you, Vincent."

She kissed him, the touch of her lips on his so soft and sweet, and motioned for him to follow her inside. Her quarters were spacious, with the outer walls gently curving along the contours of the Garden's conical shape. There was a living area with an open door leading into the bedroom, a kitchenette with a small dining area attached to it, and a bathroom.

Vincent looked around while Ellone retrieved a vase, filled it with water, and put the flowers in it. The lights had been turned low, and after a moment Vincent saw why. The dining table next to the kitchenette was set for two and adorned with a pair of softly burning candles. The food was already in place—baked salmon, vegetable salad, sweet rolls with butter—along with a slender bottle of deep red wine. Smelling it all, Vincent felt his stomach rumble and suddenly realized he hadn't eaten all day.

"You did all this?" he marveled.

Ellone nodded and put the vase in the middle of the table, a perfect centerpiece. "Yeah. I've always liked to cook, although I did have a little help from Rinoa tonight. She was over here for a bit, watching the food while I got dressed."

"It looks good, Ellone."

"Thanks," she said, sitting down. Her eyes danced. "Come on and eat."

He did so, slipping off his coat and settling into the other chair to join her. The food was as good as it looked, and Vincent ate plenty of it. He said little, as was his custom, and allowed Ellone to do most of the talking. He was content simply to be with her.

When he and Ellone were finished, Vincent helped her clear the table. They piled the dishes in the sink but decided to finish them up later. An idea had come to Vincent for something else they could do together, one he wanted to act upon and which he thought Ellone might like. Taking her by the hand, he led her into the living area.

"Walk with me again?"

Ellone smiled. "That sounds nice. Where should we go?"

"The city," Vincent suggested, "along the docks. They should be quiet at this hour."

Nodding, Ellone went with him into the corridor outside her quarters and locked the door. The place was quiet with most of the cadets probably already in for the night. Vincent remembered mention of a curfew the Garden used for students. So they would have the halls to themselves. Vincent liked that thought.

He walked with Ellone through the Garden and to the upper exit, which connected to one of the longer piers that stuck out along the city's perimeter. It was a warm, late summer night, the air tinged with the salty smell of the sea. The ocean was a dark, rolling mass beyond the docks, the sound of the waves splashing endlessly against their sides oddly soothing. On either side of the Garden sat the two airships, the _Shera_ and the _Ragnarok,_ with docks leading to the underside of each one. Both would depart tomorrow morning for Esthar and the battle that lay therein, but for now they lay dark and silent, their engines turned down for the night. Both had been repaired, resupplied, and refueled and were ready to go.

Vincent took his time, not hurrying, and helped Ellone step through the many crisscrossing train tracks that ran along the waterfront. Fisherman's Horizon had once been a connecting point for the old train bridge that stretched from Galbadia to Esthar, but no trains came this way anymore. The tracks were still here, though, rows of them running side by side right in the middle of the roads all along the city's perimeter.

After several minutes in which Vincent walked with Ellone in comfortable silence, he led her onto one of the larger piers some distance away from the Garden and the airships. His boots thudded softly against the wooden planks as he walked. When he and Ellone reached the end and stood looking over the metal railing at the endless sea beyond, Vincent took her in his arms and held her close.

"I wish we had more time," she murmured.

Vincent nodded. "So do I."

"But this is all we have. I'm glad we're together, even if it is just for one night. There is one thing, though, that I want you to do for me."

"Anything."

Ellone gazed at him sadly. "After… after I'm gone… don't spend the rest of your life alone. Find someone else, Vincent. Don't be afraid to love again."

"I don't know if I can," Vincent said. How could he love anyone but her?

"You'll find a way. I know you don't want to go back to where you were. And I'll always be with you, in spirit."

Vincent shook his head. "You're not dead yet."

"But I will be, tomorrow," Ellone said. "There's no way to stop it."

"You don't know that."

Ellone sighed. "I won't ask anyone to die in my place, Vincent. It's not right."

"We don't know the future. Anything can happen."

"Why don't we let that go for now?" Ellone asked. She pressed her lips against his in a long, lingering kiss. "Let's just enjoy tonight."

Vincent didn't argue. He returned her kiss and felt a passion growing in him that he hadn't known in a very long time. For a while he just stood there with her on the dock, his lips locking and unlocking with hers as he felt her hands tangling themselves in his hair while his own slid over her back. Eventually, he pulled away but kept her close, looking with her at the stars scattered across the night sky like thousands of sparkling diamonds. Vincent couldn't count them all, there were so many. He simply gazed at them for a while, holding Ellone in his arms and listening to the soft splashing of the waves.

----------

It was just over an hour later when Ellone found herself once more standing outside her quarters with Vincent. It had been a wonderful evening, and she had savored every moment of it. She and Vincent had walked leisurely back to the Garden, enjoying the quiet and the cool night air, and by the time they had come back here, it was almost midnight. Although it was getting late, Ellone didn't want things to end just yet. Her heart quivered at the thought of what she _did_ want, but she wasn't quite sure how to make it happen.

_Watching every motion  
In my foolish lover's game  
On this endless ocean  
Finally lovers know no shame  
Turning and returning  
To some secret place inside  
Watching in slow motion  
As you turn around and say_

_Take my breath away  
Take my breath away_

Instead, she slid her arms around Vincent and kissed him again. She liked kissing him, liked feeling the gentle pressure of his mouth moving against hers. After a moment, though, she let go and stepped out of his warm embrace long enough to slid her keycard across the lock scanner. There was a soft beep, and the door to her quarters slid open with a mechanical hiss. She looked back at Vincent, her eyes filled with longing.

"Would you… like to come in?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes."

That was all Ellone needed to know. She pulled Vincent to her and closed her lips over his as he went inside with her. Her quarters were dark as the door hissed closed behind her—she had turned off the lights before leaving earlier—but she made no move to turn them back on. She knew where everything was, and enough starlight filtered in from the windows on the far wall that she had little trouble guiding Vincent to her bedroom.

_Watching I keep waiting  
Still anticipating love  
Never hesitating  
To become the fated ones  
Turning and returning  
To some secret place to hide  
Watching in slow motion  
As you turn to me and say_

_Take my breath away_

Ellone felt his hands slide over her back and waist as he explored the soft terrain of her body. Her lips meshed against his, and heat suddenly flared within her, a fierce hunger she had no intention of denying. Her skin tingled in response to Vincent's touch as his fingers ran lighly up along the nape of her neck and swept over her hair, tugging lightly upon the bun at the back until it unraveled and the short brown strands tumbled freely around her ears.

In the meantime, Ellone grasped his coat and slid it from his shoulders. It fell to the floor in an untidy heap, but she paid it no mind. The sweet ache of desire filled her body, blocking out all else. Her hands plucked at the fine red shirt he wore, but she didn't go any further just yet. She didn't want it to be over too soon.

_Through the hourglass I saw you  
In time you slipped away  
When the mirror crashed I called you  
And turned to hear you say  
If only for today  
I am unafraid_

_Take my breath away_

Instead, Ellone buried her fingers within his long mane of black hair. It was soft, like spun silk, and she loved the feel of it against her skin. Her hands found the band of red cloth that held it in place, and she traced her fingertips along the surface of its rough fabric before finding the knot in the back and untying it. The headband went slack and fell away, and Vincent's hair spilled loosely down his back and over his shoulders.

"You look good like this," Ellone laughed softly. "Maybe you should keep it this way."

He smiled faintly. "Maybe I will."

Before she could respond, Ellone was kissing him again. His mouth didn't stay over hers for very long this time, though. Instead, it drifted down along her jaw and settled at the base of her neck, moistening it with a series of gentle kisses. A low moan escaped her lips as Vincent continued his explorations, and while he did so, she reached down and began untucking his shirt.

"Have you… have you ever done this before?" he asked.

Ellone shook her head. "No. Have you?"

"Yes. A long time ago. Another lifetime, perhaps. I don't know if I could do it again, though. My body isn't what it once was."

"You'll be fine," Ellone assured him.

She felt his breathing quicken as she pulled his shirttails free and started unfastening the buttons one after another. Her mouth closed over his ear and began nibbling lightly at it as she continued to work on his shirt. She stopped for a moment, and so did her breath, as she felt Vincent's fingers settle upon the back of her dress. The sound of it unzipping was oddly loud in the stillness, but she made no move to stop him.

_Watching every motion  
In this foolish lover's game  
Haunted by the notion  
Somewhere there's a love in flames  
Turning and returning  
To some secret place inside  
Watching in slow motion  
As you turn my way and say_

_  
Take my breath away_

Her heart racing, Ellone pulled

Vincent down with her onto the bed.

----------

Later, with the sweet fires of pleasure still lingering faintly within her like smoldering embers, Ellone kissed Vincent long and deeply as he lay, panting and exhausted, on top of her beneath the tangled sheets of her full-size bed. It wasn't quite as big as the one she had at home in Winhill—that one was a queen—but it would do for tonight. All that mattered was that she was in it, and that Vincent was with her.

Ellone held him for a while as he caught his breath, his passion spent for the moment. She savored the warmth of his body against hers, the feel of him inside her even though he was softening. That would change soon enough, she was sure, but this was nice, too. She liked their intimate connection even when there was no motion accompanying it. It had hurt a little at first and he had almost stopped, worried, but Ellone had insisted he keep going, and sure enough the pleasure had soon drowned out the pain.

After lying quietly in her arms for a few minutes, Vincent gently withdrew from her and rolled off to one side. Ellone scooted over a little to give him room as he settled down next to her. She snuggled up to him and lay her head on his shoulder, listening to the beating of his heart and tracing little circles on his chest with her fingertips. "Wow…"

"Was it alright?" he asked, slipping an arm around her.

"Yes! It was wonderful. You couldn't tell?"

Vincent absently caressed her her bare back. "As I said, it's been a long time. I'd almost forgotten what it was like."

"Well, I'd say you remembered pretty well," Ellone said.

"So I did. And it was good."

Ellone laughed. "See? I told you it would be okay. That body of yours works just fine. More than fine, actually. I don't think I've ever been so loud in my life."

"Me either," Vincent said.

Ellone sighed contentedly, loving him, loving the feel of his supple fingers upon her skin and the feathery softness of his lips drifting down to meet her own. She lay there for a while with him, enjoying the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. Ellone wished this night would never end, that it could last forever and she could just stay here with him and not worry about anything else. It _would_ end, but it wasn't over yet. Dawn was still many hours away, and Ellone wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet.

She looked up at Vincent. "Want to go again?"

"Need you ask?" he smiled.

* * *

_Lyrics from "Take My Breath Away" by Berlin_


	31. The Battle

**Chapter 30**  
**The Battle**

Ellone awoke to see the first streamers of dawn seeping through the window. At first, her mind still foggy with sleep, she wasn't sure where she was. Then she realized she was in bed, in her quarters on the Garden. Had it all been a dream? Everything? Ellone was by herself, but she hadn't been earlier. Someone had been with her, had made love to her and slept next to her. It had felt so wonderful and so right. But where was he?

Opening her eyes, Ellone stifled the sudden panic that threatened to rise up within her. Vincent wouldn't have gone anywhere. Indeed, as she became more awake, Ellone saw him standing by the window, gazing silently at the sunrise. He wore only his black boxers, which he had slipped back on when it had gotten a little cold and he and Ellone had finally worn themselves out. Ellone herself had thrown on her underwear and one of her old nightshirts. She supposed she just wasn't used to sleeping without anything on at all. At least, not yet.

Ellone got up, walked up behind Vincent and slid her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against his back and smiled. "You're up early."

"I always am," he said.

"Not me. I like the sun to be up before I am."

Vincent looked over his shoulder at her. "Then sleep. We still have a little time before we have to get ready. We aren't leaving until 0800 hours."

"No, it's okay. Once I'm up, I'm up. Besides, this is nice, too."

"I've always thought so."

Ellone turned him around to face her. "So what were you thinking about?"

"A decision," Vincent answered quietly.

"About what?"

Vincent took her in his arms. "You're aware of how the doctor helped Tifa? Before I left with the others to save you in Esthar, she said it might be possible for her to help me, as well. I think this Dr. Kadowaki could do something about Chaos and the alterations Hojo made to my body, but… I don't think I want her to. Not anymore."

"Why not?" Ellone wondered.

"It was Chaos that allowed me to save you, Ellone. Chaos got us past the wraiths and into the tower where you were being held. Chaos could fight them, but I couldn't. And it was Chaos that caught you when you fell. He's a part of me—Lucrecia used him to save me, to keep me alive after Hojo shot me. Without him, I'll die."

Ellone sighed. "Are you sure?"

"I've always known it, even though I thought for a while to find a way to be free of him. But I can't. Even dormant, Chaos is bound to me. And I to him. But even if he weren't, I still would not ask to be freed from him, not now. He is my power, and I may need that power again today. And perhaps in the future. I dare not lose it."

"It's such a burden, though, power. But I'll help you with it as much as I can. Believe me, I know how heavy it can be."

Vincent trailed his fingertips along her cheek. "Perhaps we can help each other."

"That would be nice," Ellone smiled.

She kissed him, enjoying this last bit of quiet time she would have with him. Although it was about a five hour flight to Esthar and the tower from here, Ellone doubted there would be much of an opportunity for her and Vincent to be alone together on the ship during the journey. No, this was it. Ellone savored the early morning stillness as much as she did the tender pressure of Vincent's lips against hers.

Heat rose within her. "How long until we have to leave?"

"Long enough," Vincent whispered, unbuttoning her nightshirt.

----------

Two hours later, Ellone was with Vincent and the others on board the _Shera_ as it took off and flew east alongside Garden and the _Ragnarok._ Although the sun should have been almost directly ahead of them, Ellone couldn't see it behind the roiling mass of dark clouds that obscured the eastern horizon. It was just before eight in the morning and yet towards Esthar it had become almost as dark as midnight.

Ellone watched it grimly, unafraid of entering that darkness and ready for whatever lay within it. She wore a pair of white pants, a short-sleeved blue top with matching forearm wraps not unlike those which Rinoa often favored, and her ankle-length black boots. Her bladestaff was strapped to her back in its leather harness, and she had fastened her hair once more into the short ponytail she had grown so accustomed to.

At her side, Vincent had put aside his old clothes in favor of his new ones, the black pants and boots and the red shirt, and the long coat in place of his old tattered cape. Instead of his buckled gauntlets, he had opted for a pair of dark leather gloves, and he had chosen not to wear his crimson headband today. Instead he had followed Ellone's suggestion and let his hair hang free. She had to squash the urge to reach out and twine it through her fingers.

Her thoughts scattered as Squall spoke. "That storm could be trouble…"

"Could be," Cloud agreed. He turned to the helm. "Cid, what do you think? Can you get us through?"

Cid snorted. "Shit, Cloud! You gotta ask?"

"Right," Cloud quipped.

"You think there'll be more of them this time?" Tifa asked. She didn't need to specify what she was talking about.

Ellone nodded. "Yes. A lot more."

"It won't be easy getting into the tower," Rinoa said.

"That's why you got me an' the rest coverin' ya," Cid grunted. "The six of ya's gonna haul ass across the plains and into that hellhole while we pound the shit outta them things from the air. That oughta keep most of 'em off yer backs long enough for ya to get inside."

It was a plan that Ellone and the others had gone over several times today and yesterday, but no one seemed to mind having it repeated again. At least this way, everyone knew what they had to do. Ellone was glad for her friends' presence even as her heart broke to know that these would be the last hours she would spend with them.

She could feel the cold ache growing in her chest again, the pain she had all but forgotten in the wake of the passion she had shared with Vincent last night and early this morning. It wouldn't be long now. But she had strength enough still to fight Gravheine and stop her. At least, she hoped so. Her fingers reached out and clasped Vincent's. He knew it, too.

"You'll succeed," he whispered.

Ellone squeezed his hand. "I know."

----------

On the bridge of the _Valiant,_ Iseldra stood with Reeve and Rufus in front of the navidome and waited for the last of the assault force to get into position. The attack wing, which consisted of the _Valiant_ and five other _Highwind_-class airships, was almost ready to make the jump. Each ship held a full complement of WRO ground forces ready for drop as soon as the vessels reached their destination, and inside the _Valiant_'s cargo bay, the Turks' chopper—_Wingnut_—was prepped and ready to fly. Iseldra took a breath and waited for the signal.

Reeve scratched his thin beard. "Once we're on the other side, where do we go?"

"That's a good question, Reeve," Rufus acknowledged. "Fortunately, I don't think determining our destination will pose a problem. As you no doubt have noticed, the skies have darkened considerably today, choked as they are with more black storm clouds than either of us have ever seen outside of Sephiroth's doing. It follows that such a disturbance must be occurring in the other world as well. All we have to do is fly to the source."

"He's right," Iseldra agreed. "I can guide you, too."

Reeve nodded. "Then do it. We're counting on you, Iseldra."

Her hand found his and squeezed it gently. She didn't let go until Reeve was told by one of the crew that all the ships were in position. This time it was Reeve who did the squeezing, and with a soft smile he wished her luck. Iseldra smiled back and let go of his hand. Her son was safe in one of the passenger cabins, under the care of a young WRO lieutenant. The girl had promised to keep him safe, not at all bothered by the fact that Iseldra was a frost maiden. That alone reassured her even without Reeve's own words. Maybe there was hope for her in this world after all, that there were some people who were willing to see past what she was.

Iseldra stepped forward and placed her fingers onto the smooth glass of the navidome. She blocked out everything else—Reeve, Rufus, her son, Cait and Red who were in the cargo bay with the rest of the ground forces, Shelke who was in the medlab preparing her consoles for the SND uplink to coordinate the attack, and the Turks who were all waiting in the _Wingnut_—and fell into herself. She sent the tingling warmth of her power outward, a crystalline blue aura that passed harmlessly through the bridge windows like mist and streaked across the sky before blossoming into a flaring supernova of light several hundred feet away.

"That's our jump point," she heard Reeve say. "Let's go, everyone!"

----------

"All units are aboard," Quistis confirmed.

Standing with her on Galbadia Garden's bridge, Headmaster Martine nodded. "Good. Inform Xu and we'll get underway."

Quistis saluted. "Understood, sir."

She opened the comlink and told Xu that the last of the Galbadian reserves were aboard. Although not technically under Galbadian control since the end of the Sorceress War, the region of Timber was still home to a sizable number of reserve troops that normally never saw much in the way of active duty. Timber had regained its independence after the war and had flourished, but the Galbadian forces had never been fully withdrawn. Until now, that was.

In a way, Quistis supposed, it was a good thing. She knew that every last man and woman who could fight would be needed for the battle in Esthar, or at least all those that weren't already fighting the demons that had emerged here and there across half of Galbadia. She had seen a few and shuddered, but so far they had not erupted in large numbers like those that were massing in Esthar like an army of devouring locusts.

Zell and most of the others had returned to the _Illumina,_ but Quistis and Seifer had stayed aboard Galbadia Garden at Martine's request. That he had wanted Seifer to stay had surprised both of them, but Martine had acknowledged Seifer's assistance in liberating the Garden from Astasia's forces. Maybe it would be easier to work things out than Quistis had thought. In any case, she was glad Seifer was there with her.

Did she love him? Maybe. It was still a little confusing, thinking of him like that, but… Quistis couldn't deny what had happened, or what she felt. Seifer could be an idiot sometimes, but Quistis knew that beneath the bravado he meant well. At least, he did now. Being a puppet for Ultimecia had changed him, although he would never admit it to anyone. Still, Quistis saw it, even if the others didn't. He had saved her life, hadn't he?

Quistis brushed off her thoughts. She had a mission to worry about. Her love life—it was strange to realize that she even had one, after having not had one for so long—would have to wait until later. She ran her fingers over the Garden's helm controls while at her side, Seifer checked on the weapons and propulsion systems. Both Balamb and Galbadia Gardens had had more than just extra rooms added after the war—they now had a full array of armaments and shields as well as upgraded engines and maneuvering thrusters.

"We all set?" Quistis asked.

Seifer grinned. "We're ready to kick ass, if that's what you mean."

"Then let's go and do it."

"Right on. How long 'til we get to Esthar?"

Quistis frowned. "We're just outside of Timber, so I'd say about eight hours. Esthar's on the other side of the ocean, you know."

"Damn," Seifer swore. "We gonna get there in time?"

Quistis sighed. "I hope so."

----------

The rocky plains of Esthar were shrouded in gloom and filled with dark forms. Hundreds and hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Bony, leaping shadowcreepers dashed across the ground in packs as nightwings flew past overhead in large flocks like nightmarish birds. Hooded, eyeless wraiths with huge, feathered wings and viciously sharp blades in their clawed hands strode calmly through the madness, outnumbered by their lesser kin but not overpowered.

Serpents of all sizes, from finger length creatures to vipers fully twenty feet long and half a foot thick, slithered and writhed across the plains, their scales glistening and black and their eyes cold, glittering shards of amber. They hissed, forked tongues tasting the air as their fangs dripped venoms capable of wounding more than the body. Amongst the demons swirled the lifestream, hundreds of angry red tendrils that twisted and writhed over and under and around each other like a net of hellish vines.

From the west, a trio of vessels raced headlong across the insanity. Foremost was the _Shera,_ spitting gunfire and missiles with abandon. They ripped into the monsters with a series of shuddering blasts that left only black ash behind. The ones the _Shera_ missed, the _Ragnarok_ found. Flying to one side of the other ship, the _Ragnarok_ seared the enemy ranks with laser fire, pulse rounds, and photon torpedoes. What was once only dark lit up nearly as light as daylight with the orange fireglow of explosions.

Behind the two airships came the larger bulk that was Balamb Garden. The new weapons systems were already finding targets, with smart missiles and particle beams shredding demons by the hundreds. Soon the ships could hardly be seen for all the ash floating in the air, but for every demon destroyed, ten more took its place.

Blasting away a pack of creepers that had strayed too close, the _Shera_ dove low until she was only twenty feet from the ground, banked sharply to starboard all the way around until her nose faced west, back the way she had come. She hovered for just the briefest of moments, long enough for the cargo bay ramp at the aft section to open. A second later, a trio of motorcycles exploded out of the cargo bay, sped down the ramp, and jumped out onto the plains. At the same time, the airship's underbelly slid open to reveal the cargo bay itself and two dozen WRO drop squads kicking their skyboards into gear and swooping outside toward the madness below. Armed with machine guns, bazookas, and grenade launchers, the soldiers swarmed into the demons amidst a cacophony of gunfire and exploding missiles.

The cargo bay closed and the _Shera_ shot skyward, blasting a path through the black masses for the three motorcycles to follow. From the north, a line of crushing metal suits tore into the hellish ranks with adamant blades and pulse rifles. The Estharian ground troops harassed the enemy's flank with almost reckless abandon, accompanied by tanks and low-flying assault fighters. Overseeing that angle of the attack was the _Ragnarok_'s other sister ship, the _Excalibur._ It flew overhead, engines roaring, and with its laser cannons and gatling guns tore apart demon after demon, filling the air with roiling clouds of black ash.

For just an instant the _Ragnarok_ touched down, landing long enough for the loading ramp to open and almost a hundred men and women in crisp white and silver uniforms to run out of the cargo bay and into the battle. Armed with swords and fists and magic, the White SeeDs fought like demons themselves, blasting and cutting this way and that. They had been waiting for Ellone and the others at the far side of the bridge at the refueling station that had been built just west of the Great Salt Lake. Though few in number, their skill in battle was unmatched, and they threw back their enemies even as they battled to reach the tower.

Holding on tight as the _Blackbird_ landed on the ground with a thud, Ellone opened her eyes—she had squeezed them shut during the jump—and looked over Vincent's shoulder at the tower rising ominously ahead of them. It was many miles away, just a dark spike on the horizon, but Cid hadn't been able to get them any closer. The demons had been packed too thick. Still, the _Shera_ was right above and behind Ellone and the others, clearing them a path while doing her best to shake off the nightwings clinging to its hull like hideous leeches.

Ellone saw the _Ragnarok_ take off again after depositing the White SeeDs not far from where she and the others were. Nighwings crawled over its surface and were surging into Balamb Garden as well along with hordes of creepers and wraiths. SeeDs from the Garden fought both within it and on the plains below, but Ellone knew they didn't have the numbers to hold out for long. None of them did. Though what seemed like a thousand demons had already been destroyed, ten times that number still filled the plains everywhere she looked.

To her left, Squall and Rinoa rode on the _Lion's Pride, _a sleek black and silver motorcycle with the leonine Griever emblazoned on the side. Squall slashed and shot demon after demon while Rinoa scorched them with sorceress fire. Ellone herself, behind Vincent on the _Blackbird,_ had her bladestaff in hand and thrust at any demon that came near. A pair of shadowcreepers loped up from behind on either side and leapt at her, but she jabbed one with her bladestaff and kicked the other in the chest. A blast from Vincent's gun finished it off.

On the right, Cloud and Tifa dodged and swerved on _Fenrir_. Cloud sliced a nightwing in two, clove a winged viper down the middle, and lopped the head off a creeper while Tifa smashed another two with her fists and tossed a third over her head, using the momentum from its leap to throw it behind her. It jumped at her again but she met it with a swift backhand punch that reduced it to ash.

Ellone had to squint her eyes against the wind rushing against her face from the motorcycle's acceleration, but she was able to see well enough. In front of her, Vincent shot demon after demon with the Cerberus and the Death Penalty, driving and holding onto the guns at the same time. Ellone felt her stomach lurch as the _Blackbird_ suddenly made a sharp left turn, but it was because a creeper had leapt toward them from right in their path. Ellone raised her bladestaff to attack, but half a dozen more of the creatures were suddenly all around her, running alongside the motorcycle and jumping toward her, teeth bared.

Suddenly the demons simply exploded, one after another under a rain of machine gun fire. But it hadn't been from the _Shera,_ for it was too far away now, nightwings and flying serpents clawing across its hull and forcing it back. The shots, Ellone realized, had come from their right, from the south, and not behind them. She saw Rinoa's eyes widen, heard Tifa's sharp intake of breath and Cloud's muffled shout as he cut apart another demon and saw the new arrivals. Vincent hadn't yet noticed, but Ellone saw them now. And when she did, her jaw dropped, for she recognized the ships in the southern sky.

"Vincent!" she cried. "They're here! Look!"

----------

Cid stared unbelievingly at the six—no, seven—vessels that had just joined the fray. His cigarette fell unnoticed from his mouth at the sight of a heavily armed Shinra assault chopper and half a dozen _Highwind_-class airships. "Well I'll be goddamned! It's the _Valiant!_"

"Sir, we're being hailed!" the communications officer reported.

"Put it through!"

The young man nodded. "Aye, sir."

A moment later, a familiar voice echoed through the bridge. "Cid, it's Reeve. Sorry we're late—we emerged a bit farther away than we'd planned."

"Hell, I'm just glad you could make it to the party!" Cid grinned.

"We're dispatching drop squads and Shadowfoxes now. Hopefully that'll buy Cloud and the others enough time to get into the tower."

Cid gripped the wheel as the deck shuddered beneath him. "It goddamn well better! I don't know how much longer we can keep these flying suckers from chewing through our hull. I just hope they don't find the fuel lines."

"You and me both, old friend," Reeve agreed. "Tuesti out."

----------

Reno banked the _Wingnut_ to starboard as the chopper's twin gatling guns spat bullets into a crowd of demons. "Yeah, baby! Eat it!"

"Just watch your aim," Tseng admonished from the copilot's seat.

"Like I need to. There's a ton of the damn things."

Tseng pointed to the tower. "Take us low. The _Shera'_s fallen behind, so we're going to cover Cloud and the others in its place."

"Man, we gotta save his sorry ass again?"

"President's orders, Reno."

Reno brushed a strand of his fiery red hair out of his eyes and guided the chopper's steering yoke forward. "Alrighty, then."

Behind him, Elena sighed. "I never thought we'd be helping them again."

Rude, who was busy in the aft section firing a tripod-mounted machine gun at any demons that flew near, didn't hear the conversation. And if he had, Reno reflected, he probably wouldn't have said anything. Rude had never been much of a talker, but he did make a good drinking buddy. Which was why Reno got along so well with him.

"Hey, Tseng, we gonna use our trump card?" Reno wondered.

Tseng nodded. "Wait until we're closer to the tower. Then we'll deploy them."

"Sweet! I've always wanted to see those babies in action. Looks like we're gettin' some overtime today, eh?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Reno grinned. "You got it! Time to rock!"

----------

"Ground squads Alpha, Beta, and Delta are away," Shelke's voice reported through the overhead speakers. "Gamma and Epsilon squads are standing by."

"Understood," Reeve acknowledged.

He watched as dozens of WRO soldiers swarmed out on their skyboards from beneath the _Valiant_ and the other five airships that made up the assault force and descended rapidly toward the roiling mass of demons surging across the plains. The sky lit up with weapons fire, bullets and missles and particle beams crisscrossing every which way as the soldiers and the demons exchanged blows. The nightwings and flying vipers that weren't attacking the airships themselves clawed and tore at the soldiers, and the air soon filled with both black ash and the screams of wounded and dying men and women.

A tiny spot of red with an even tinier spot of dark blue upon it marked Red and Cait Sith. Reeve had wondered how Red was going to manipulate a skyboard with his four pawed legs, but the huge panther was nothing if not intelligent, and the modifications to his little craft seemed to be working, enabling him and Cait to fly down to the ground along with those WRO troops who had managed to survive the descent.

The duo was out of sight seconds later as the _Valiant_ flew onward toward the tower. So far, so good. The first phase had gone as planned. Now for the second phase. Rufus nodded, and Reeve addressed the comm system and through it, Shelke. "Alright, time for the Shadowfoxes. Are the dropships ready, Shelke?"

"Affirmative. Awaiting your command."

"Do it."

Shelke's voice responded a moment later. "Dropships launched."

Through the forward viewports on the bridge, Reeve saw the bulky gray vessels quickly descend to the ground. The instant they landed, a host of Shadowfox assault trucks burst out of each one, spitting rockets and high-caliber machine gun fire into the demon ranks. Smoke and black ash filled the air so thickly that for a moment Reeve couldn't see the ground below. When it cleared, he almost wished it hadn't.

Although the WRO forces were fighting bravely, they were outnumbered at least a hundred to one. Not many would make it to the tower, Reeve knew, yet so did they. He didn't like sending good men and women to their deaths, but if they didn't fight, there was no hope for victory. And that was something Reeve couldn't allow.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the airborne demons. "They're changing tactics…"

Rufus saw it, too. "So it would seem."

Indeed, while some of the flying demons still scrabbled and ripped at the hull and even scuttled across outside of the bridge viewports like hellish vultures, others let go, swooping up and around and hurling balls of blue fire at the _Valiant_ and its sister ships. The blasts were relentless, and no matter how many demons the ships' guns cut down, more flew in to take their place. Reeve wondered how long his little fleet could hold out against such an attack, but he wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

"Reeve! Look!" Iseldra seized his arm and pointed to starboard.

He followed her gaze, his throat going dry as one of the ships in his convoy—the _Da-Chao_—suddenly crumpled under the fury of the demonic assault and exploded. Chunk of burnt metal and flesh flew everywhere, raining down upon the battlefield in the midst of a raging fireball that quickly dissipated but nearly took out a neighboring airship along with it.

Suddenly the _Valiant_ lurched hard to port as something blew, and Reeve barely managed to hold onto the rail and grab Iseldra with his other hand as the deck tilted sideways in a steep diagonal. Rufus shoved the helmsman aside and tried to stabilize the ship, but the wheel spun crazily out of his hands and it was all he could do not to get thrown aside.

"Rufus!" Reeve yelled. "What the hell's going on?"

"Are we going to crash?!" Iseldra had his arm in a deathgrip.

Rufus, by contrast, seemed utterly calm. "It certainly appears that way. The helm doesn't want to cooperate, but I'm open to suggestions."

"Structural damage to decks four through twelve," Shelke's voice reported tersely from the overhead speakers. "Navigation systems not responding. Engines offline."

"Damn!" Reeve swore.

Similarly panicked shouts echoed around the bridge as the crew struggled to right the airship and realized she was beyond saving. Black forms punched through the glass of the bridge viewports, and a shrill keening wind swept through the air. One unlucky crewman was sucked out and fell away screaming.

Reeve saw the black things approaching and swore at himself for not keeping his rifle handy. But even as they closed, moving effortlessly along the skewed deck, they suddenly exploded into black ash as thunder erupted almost in Reeve's ear. He turned his head and saw Rufus, totally unruffled, shooting one after another with his sawn-off shotgun. He'd had it slung over his shoulder and had managed to grab it somehow.

"Reeve!" Iseldra yelled, pointing again.

Through the gaping hole in the bridge window, the ground was alarmingly large and getting larger by the second. Reeve let go of Iseldra, seized the helm and with Rufus' help struggled to lift the _Valiant_'s nose, but they were running out of time. And as the whine of the wind grew louder, Reeve shouted what he thought would be his final order.

"Brace for impact!"

----------

Edea stood on the bridge of Balamb Garden and surveyed the carnage. She watched as half of the airships that had arrived from the south crashed or were destroyed in a matter of moments. Most had managed to get their ground forces away in whole or in part, at least, but still… Edea mourned those lost even as she turned her attentions to her own vessel and those in her charge. Her children faced a battle both without and within.

"How many?" she asked.

The young SeeD at her side swallowed. "Hundreds, headmistress. They must have gotten in through the quad. We're fighting them in the halls, but…"

"Our losses?"

The redheaded girl sighed. "Heavy. Our ground forces are barely holding their own as well. If only Galbadia Garden was here. Their SeeDs have seen more combat duty than ours, I'm afraid. Are they… are they coming?"

Edea smiled reassuringly. "They're on their way."

That was true enough. She had received a transmission from Quistis while en route to Esthar informing her that the others were on their way. It would still be some time before they arrived, however. Edea hoped it wouldn't be too late.

In the meantime, she had other concerns. "Seal off as many areas as you can, Layna. We must limit where our enemies can go."

"Yes, ma'am. Any word from the commander?"

"He and the others are nearing the tower as we speak, but that is all I know. We must get closer ourselves to give them aid when the time comes."

Layna nodded. "Of course. It's just… there are so many of them…"

Edea didn't need to ask what the girl meant. "I know. But the commander doesn't know how to fail. And neither do his friends."

----------

Just over a hundred miles northwest of the Estharian plains, Quistis sighed for what must have been the thousandth time and wished Galbadia Garden could go faster. It was a futile wish, she knew, for a vessel as large as the Garden could only fly at a limited speed lest it tear itself apart from the increased stress on the exterior plating.

"I feel so helpless," Quistis murmured.

Seifer shrugged. "Yeah. But this bucket can't go any faster, and Xu's not gonna leave us behind. So we gotta make do."

"At this rate, the battle may be over by the time we get there."

"Nah. If I know ol' Scarface, he'll drag it out. How long 'til we get there?"

Quistis checked the readouts on the helm's control panel. "About forty-seven minutes. Anything could happen between now and then, though."

"We'll just have to be ready, then."

"We will be," Quistis agreed.

----------

As she and Vincent sped through a haze of smoke and dying flames, Ellone glanced around and saw the Shadowfoxes closing in ahead and to either side, flanking the _Blackbird_ and the other two motorcycles and enclosing them in a protective phalanx. Creepers and more leapt at them, but most of the trucks shrugged off their attackers with little difficulty. The WRO ground forces weren't going to be dislodged so easily.

Ellone looked up as she heard a loud whishing almost directly overhead, and she saw a sleek black attack chopper with the Shinra logo emblazoned on the side flying above and just behind her and the others, spitting missiles and bullets in the demonic hordes that surged and seethed everywhere Ellone looked.

A glance behind her showed her the airships and the Garden in the distance, covered with dark shapes, and the tiny figures of men and women battling against them on the ground with guns, swords, and magic. Some were SeeDs, others WRO, all outnumbered and outmatched. Yet still they fought, and as Ellone looked forward again at the tower looming ever closer and larger in her vision, she swore to herself that their blood wouldn't have been spilt in vain.

Suddenly more demons closed in, swarming everywhere, and three of the Shadowfoxes tumbled away. A shadowcreeper leapt in, snarling, and Ellone was nearly thrown from her seat as Vincent jerked the motorcycle hard to the right in an effort to dodge the monster. He blasted it with the Cerberus a second later, then took out another on the other side with Death Penalty. Cloud slashed and sliced three in less than a minute while Tifa smashed the one he missed, and on Ellone's left Squall clove a nightwing in two and decapitated a creeper while Rinoa burned a pair of them that had run up alongside her.

Ellone saw one leap toward her and she whipped up her arm to slice at it with her bladestaff, but suddenly she felt her power surge within her, and the white materia embedded in the bladestaff suddenly flared to life. In seconds a searing line of white energy shot out from it and engulfed the demon in flames, ripping it apart in midair. She had no time to ponder what had happened, though, for Vincent was calling to her.

"Ellone!" he shouted. "Drive!"

Without waiting for an answer, Vincent leapt straight up in a backward somersault, and in a blinding flare of violet light, transformed into Chaos. Ellone slid up and gripped the handlebars of the motorcycle as Vincent flew protectively above and around her, blasting demons with the Death Penalty and the Cerberus and roaring in primal rage.

Ellone drove, her heart pumping madly as she swerved and dodged the demons that strove to get to her and the others. Only a handful of the Shadowfoxes still remained, but they had done their job. Ellone saw that the tower was close. She and the others might have reached it sooner if they had been allowed to ride straight to it, but the demons had forced them to turn one way or the other and sometimes even double back.

A nightwing dove low, straight at her, but Ellone didn't slow the _Blackbird._ She thrust the bladestaff high and ahead of her and let her power flow through it. White fire shot out from it and swiftly consumed the demon. It was a lot like Rinoa's sorceress fire, she thought, but it wasn't quite the same. It was almost alive, Ellone sensed, more of an extension of her own self than a simple projection of her will.

She swept the fire in an arc before her, sweeping away the demons that surged toward her, but as she did so the cold ache in her chest began to deepen and she winced. That opening was all her enemies needed, and while Vincent fought off one set of attackers and her friends on the other two bikes battled others, a host of creepers suddenly leapt at her through the holes left by the missing Shadowfoxes. There were far too many to cut down all at once, yet Ellone knew she wouldn't get more than one shot, if that.

Ellone hit the gas and raised her bladestaff once again.

----------

"Yo, Tseng! Is it time?" Reno asked.

"Yeah," Tseng answered. "Let 'em loose, Reno. Our girl's in trouble."

Reno saw it was true. The cute brunette on the bike was being beset by demons on all sides despite the best efforts of her and her friends and the remaining Shadowfoxes to hold them back. The _Wingnut_'s twin gatling guns were killing a lot of them, but not nearly enough. The girl and the others couldn't make it much farther like that.

"Here we go!" Reno hit the switch.

The chopper's belly slid open, and from it dropped a cluster of blinking spherical devices that whizzed and spun and darted instantly toward the demons. The proximity mines, each roughly the size of a basketball, were mounted with gun turrets and motion detectors, and within seconds were ripping into the creepers and nightwings from all sides. What had a moment before been a thick nest of demons was now nothing more than a quickly dissipating cloud of black ash. Some of the mines continued firing at any demons they encountered, while others flew right up to the monsters and self-destructed in a barrage of huge fireballs that devoured them and threw what demons survived the blasts dozens of yards away.

Reno grinned. "Nasty little buggers, ain't they?"

----------

On the bridge of the _Shera,_ Cid swore as the WRO fleet fell apart. His own ship was barely flying, so bombarded was it by those flying monstrosities with their blue fireballs, and the _Ragnarok_ and the _Excalibur_ were in no better shape. Cid saw the _Valiant_ go down and grimaced, gripping the helm so hard his knuckles whitened.

"Sir!" a crewman reported. "We've lost the _Valiant!_"

"I know. We're headin' over to what's left of it. That wreck could blow at any time, so let's get our pals outta there before it does!"

Turning the wheel, Cid quickly banked the _Shera_ to starboard, shaking demons off the hull, and descended toward the billowing plumes of smoke that marked where the _Valiant_ had landed. The portside engines were gone, but the main sections of the hull were more or less intact, if blackened and burning. Dark shapes leapt about and crawled over the wreckage, but a few blasts from the _Shera_'s guns as the airship came to hover nearby drove them away.

Cid grabbed the intercom. "Alright, everyone, listen up! You've got five minutes to get as many survivors off the _Valiant_ as you can! Then we're takin' our happy asses back up into the sky. We stay any longer and those demons'll tear us apart. Now go!"

Even now, black shapes were swarming everywhere, but for the moment, the _Shera_'s guns kept them at bay. Cid knew it wouldn't last, though, but it didn't have to. Just long enough for his crew to get done what needed to be done. He'd have liked to have looked for survivors from the other ships that had gone down, but there wasn't much left of them. The _Valiant_ had been lucky in that it was still largely in one piece, but that could change in a hurry if the downed ship's remaining engines were as ruptured as Cid thought they were.

A few minutes later, a familiar voice echoed on the intercom. "Cid! Thank goodness you showed up. I thought that was it for us."

"Hell no, Reeve!" Cid grunted, glad to know his friend was alive. "Ain't none of us gonna go down that easy. You guys all on board?"

"Yeah. We'll join you on the bridge shortly."

Cid lit up another cigarette. "Got it. Alright, everyone, we're outta here!"

And not a moment too soon, either, for almost immediately after Cid sent the _Shera_ rocketing back into the open sky, the shattered wreck of the _Valiant_ exploded. The _Shera_ shuddered slightly from the recoil but held her course as Cid banked her to port until she faced east again, the black spike of the tower looming straight ahead.

----------

Ellone sped on, pushing the _Blackbird_ through the haze of black ash left by the demons destroyed by the Turks' proximity mines, and saw with relief that her friends on the _Fenrir_ and the _Lion's Pride_ were still there riding alongside her. Vincent was a little ahead of her now, blasting demons out of the way as she and the others sped behind. The din of the _Wingnut'_s rotors twirling overhead and the blasting of machinegun fire was deafening, but it muted somewhat the snarls of the demons and the screams of the people they were tearing apart.

Suddenly the tower was right in front of her, but she didn't slow down. Neither did the others. Cloud went faster, riding Fenrir right up the steps and smashing through the double doors so hard that they flew right off their hinges with a bang. Creepers leapt at Ellone and the others from every direction, but between their weapons, rockets from the remaining Shadowfoxes, and the _Wingnut_'s gatling guns, none of the monsters got through.

Ellone sped after Cloud and Tifa, Squall and Rinoa at her side, as Vincent settled down behind her and resumed his human form. Soon the din of battle was left behind as they finally rode into the tower, and at once Ellone saw it was different. As she brought the _Blackbird_ to a stop next to the _Fenrir_ and the _Lion's Pride,_ she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

The ground floor, once consisting of the sealing chamber and the hallways surrounding it, was gone. Instead there was only a single vast room, with black, pulsing walls that pulsed and throbbed like some hellish flesh. The stairs that led to the second floor were still there, however, albeit twisted and warped and much steeper than Ellone remembered. The ceiling of the place was higher, too, and the sealing unit was gone. In fact, the room was almost totally empty. Not even the sarcophagus was there, although she knew it was somewhere in this place. Gravheine had moved it, no doubt.

Ellone dismounted as her friends did the same, and it was then that she saw the room's lone occupant. She shivered, unconsciously stepping a little closer to Vincent and tightening her hands around the bladestaff. A man stood not so far away, a twisted little scientist she knew all too well. She had known he would be here, but it chilled her nevertheless.

"Velcome," Dr. Odine cackled.


	32. The Tower

**Chapter 31  
The Tower**

"They're in!" Reeve exclaimed.

He, Iseldra, and Rufus were on the bridge of the _Shera_ along with Cid, watching the battle rage on the plains below and in the skies all around them. The ship shook, buffeted as it was by the nightwings' fireballs, but so far it was holding up well enough. Not that it was any surprise—this was the flagship of the WRO fleet, bigger and tougher than the rest.

Iseldra hovered close by Reeve's side, blood drying on her temple and cuts and burns on her arms. Nor was she alone in her injuries. Reeve's formerly neat blue overcoat was singed and torn in several places, and there was a thin red line arcing up above his right eye. Most of the survivors from the _Valiant_ had sufferered injuries in the crash, but there had been no time to do much to treat them. Rufus was more or less whole, with only a small cut on his hand and another on his cheek to show for the experience.

Among those lost was the young lieutenant who had been charged with caring for Iseldra's son while she was assisting Reeve and Rufus on the bridge. The girl had been killed almost upon impact, but she had shielded the boy with her own body in the process, likely saving his life. Erich was in his mother's arms now—Iseldra hadn't wanted to have him out of her sight since coming aboard the _Shera,_ and Reeve didn't blame her one bit.

Her crimson eyes widened. "Reeve, the tower! It's closing up!"

"What?"

"She's right," Rufus said.

Reeve followed their gaze, seeing what they saw and feeling his throat tighten down to a bare pinhole. On top of the tower's walls, which had looked formidable enough, a new layer of black stone was sliding into place, wrapping the ominous structure from top to bottom in huge sheets of slick, rounded plating that neatly overlapped each other. They looked something like shells, Reeve thought, or pieces of armor. But that wasn't it, either.

Then a shiver chased through him. "Scales…"

"What did you say?"

"Scales, Rufus," Reeve answered. "That's what they are. It makes sense, don't you think?"

The other man nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does."

The scales had covered the entrance to the tower as well, sealing it completely. Reeve stared fixedly at where the double doors had been. "Cloud and the others, they're trapped inside. Unless… Cid, do you think the _Shera_'s guns can get through?"

"Let's find out!" Cid hollered.

The ship banked hard to port and dove low, flying directly toward the tower. Reeve held on as Cid let loose with the _Shera_'s particle cannons. His aim was perfect, but the shots simply bounced off the scales, some flying right back at the ship. The deck shuddered with the glancing impacts, but the _Shera _avoided the worst of the blasts.

Cid's lip curled. "Shit! Not a goddamn thing!"

"What about missiles?" Reeve suggested. "Would that work?"

"Might as well try it and see."

Half a dozen of the _Shera_'s remaining _Interceptor_-class smart missiles shot out from beneath the ship's nose a second later, plumes of white streaking the air behind them as they flew through the sky and slammed into the thick armored wall encasing the tower. But when the smoke finally cleared a few moments later, the scales were still there, undamaged.

"What…?" Reeve stared.

Rufus folded his arms. "It looks like our friends are on their own."

----------

Within the tower, Squall narrowed his eyes. "Odine."

"I've been expecting you, Leonhart," the little scientist cackled. "All of you. As has my Queen and ze Lady Gravheine. And ve are prepared."

"Not prepared enough."

Odine laughed. "Oh, you think I plan to stop you like zis? I am not zat stupid. But I _vill_ stop you, of zat you can be certain."

"You can try," Cloud replied, hefting his sword.

"I vill, yes. Oh I vill."

Still cackling, Odine reached into his pocket and withdrew a hypospray filled with a bright greenish liquid. Squall frowned, not knowing what it was but not liking it either. Was this another of the man's demented tricks? What was he planning now? Squall didn't know what the stuff was or what it was supposed to do, but—

Tifa's face paled. "No…!"

"What—?" Squall began.

"How the hell did you get that?" Cloud demanded, his blue eyes blazing at Odine.

The scientist chuckled. "Ah, so you know of it? Good, good!"

"Know of what?" Rinoa asked tersely, looking from Cloud to Tifa to the vial. "What is that stuff, guys? What's going on?"

"Jenova," Vincent answered softly. "The calamity."

Squall shared a puzzled expression with Rinoa. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's those cells, isn't it?" Ellone said.

"Right," Cloud nodded. "Jenova cells. All that's left of that alien bitch that nearly destroyed the planet. We beat her and Sephiroth years ago, but a few people still have some of her cells inside her. Me, for example. But I sure as hell didn't give this bastard any of them."

Tifa clenched her fists and glared at Odine. "So where did you get them?"

"I don't know who ze donor was," the little man answered, "but it vas our mutual friend Gravheine who gave me ze cells."

"Rufus," Vincent declared. "It was him."

Cloud nodded. "Part of the price for walking again, no doubt."

"Is he _insane_?" Tifa asked.

"Probably figured we'd take care of things if it got ugly. Which we will. But I'm still going to have a little chat with him after this is over."

Squall eyed Odine warily. "You're going to put that stuff inside you?"

"Yes, yes, zat is ze idea. As your friends are no doubt aware, Jenova cells possess remarkable transformative properties. But it iz not Jenova alone zat I have 'ere. Zere is more, much more, and I have our dear Ellone to thank for it!"

Ellone's eyes widened. "What?"

"You did not think ze experiments you recently undervent vere merely for ze sake of scientific curiousity, do you?" Odine grinned. "I extracted a sample of your blood, vich contains an unusually high concentration of magical energy infused within it. Zat blood has been mixed vith the Jenova cells I have reactivated, and now all zat power is mine! Witness, all of you, ze power of ze Centra and ze power of Jenova, as one!"

Before anyone could stop him, Odine pressed the hypospray against his neck and depressed it, pushing the fluid into his veins with a soft hiss of escaping air. Squall gripped his gunblade in both hands and watched as Odine's small body bulged and expanded, his skin darkening to a sooty gray as his eyes went from light brown to a bright, fiery red.

"Get out of here!" Squall yelled to the others. "Get Elle to the top of this place! That's got to be where Gravheine's at. Go! I'll deal with Odine!"

"Not by yourself," Cloud said, readying his own sword.

Before them, Odine continued to grow, exploding out of his clothes and getting bigger and bigger until he was almost twenty feet tall. His arms elongated, the hands and fingers melding together to form a razor sharp, bladelike protrusion at the end of each wrist as a second pair of monstrous arms sprouted from his shoulders along with a pair of vast, feathered wings. His legs thickened, the toes stretched out and the toenails curved down into vicious talons. He opened his mouth to reveal rows of jagged, knifelike teeth, and a deep laugh echoed from his throat as his hair fell away and his skull stretched into something inhuman, something demonic.

Tifa's eyes took in the monster that had been Odine. "It's like Hojo all over again…"

Cloud nodded. "I know. We'll handle it."

"Be careful!" she said, and hurried after Vincent and Ellone, who were already racing up the stairs and out of sight with Rinoa close behind.

"Rinoa!" Squall called out. "Don't let Elle out of your sight!"

She turned back to him for a moment and nodded. "I won't. I promise."

"Just remember what Matron told us. Sis can't do this without you. She needs you. So stay with her and send that snake bitch back to the hell she came from!"

"You can count on it," Rinoa smiled grimly.

She ran up the stairs after the others, and Squall brought his attention back to Odine, whose transformation was nearly complete. Cloud stood nearby, and with a click he detached a smaller blade from the body of the larger, so that he had a sword in both hands. Squall tightened his grip on Lionheart's hilt and braced himself for Odine's inevitable attack.

A moment later, it came.

----------

Laguna clutched the side of the weapons console as the _Ragnarok_ banked to starboard, just barely dodging a hail of blue fireballs and the nightwings throwing them. The ship's guns cut down another swath of the things before diving low over the plains to rip through the ranks of creepers and giant serpents that were slowly decimating the allied ground forces. Black ash filled the air like great plumes of smoke as demons exploded under the relentless fury of the _Ragnarok's_ particle beams and machine guns, and then the ship was shooting skyward again, spiraling away before the enemy could counterattack.

Yet the black horde continued to mass, dark shapes writhing over and under each other and ripping into the soldiers and SeeDs trying desperately to hold them off. And what the demons missed, the corrupted lifestream found more often than not, its crimson tendrils whipping and thrashing through the ranks like the tentacles of some vast, bloated monster. They took life in single bloodless instants, their merest touch a fatal caress.

In the midst of it all was the tower, and it was to that that Laguna's eyes kept returning. Elle and the others had made it inside some time ago, but there was no way to know how they were faring now. Those massive scales encased the black spike in an impenetrable shell of armor. Neither the _Ragnarok_'s guns nor the _Shera_'s had been able to penetrate them, nor had any of the weapons on any of the other few remaining airships.

The sudden shuddering of the bulkheads scattered Laguna's thoughts. "Status!"

"Hull strength down to forty-two percent!" the copilot replied. "Those things aren't letting up, sir! Structural integrity down to fifty-three percent!"

"Can we shake 'em?"

The pilot shook her head. "I'm trying, but there's too many of them!"

No sooner had she spoken than a trio of nightwings suddenly swept up right toward the bridge on a collision course. Laguna ordered the pilot to evade, but he knew the things were too close to dodge. Another second and they would punch right through the glass plating of the viewports, and when that happened—

"Sir!" the copilot's jaw dropped.

Laguna's did, too, as the nightwings simply exploded under a hail of gunfire and another Estharian cruiser flashed by, its dark red hull soaring up from behind the _Ragnarok_ to cover her flank. But it wasn't the _Excalibur,_ for that ship had already gone down not long ago, destroyed by the nightwings. As the new ship settled in alongside the _Ragnarok,_ Laguna grinned in weary relief even as the comm line flashed.

It was the _Illumina._

----------

Ellone raced up the stairs of the tower along with the others, nearly sprinting, and she had to force herself not to outrun them. Something was pushing her along, beckoning her, although she knew not what. Maybe the awareness that her time was running out. Even now, the cold ache was there again in her chest, but so far she still had her strength. She had to hurry, though, for she knew it would not be this way much longer.

She and the others encountered no demons, but the walls of the place seemed almost alive, and Ellone could have sworn she could sense the wailings of the lost souls trapped within them. Whatever dark abyss this place had been ripped from, she would send it back there. Stairs flew beneath her feet as she climbed, and her legs burned with exertion, but she didn't slow. Nor did the others. The sounds of battle from below had faded with distance, and she could only hope that Cloud and Squall were able to stop Odine.

Ellone and the others came out into another large chamber about two-thirds of the way up the tower. More stairs wound upward and out of sight on the far side, but Ellone didn't look at them. She stopped, her hands tightening around the bladestaff, and the others stopped as well and moved up alongside her, for the room was not empty.

In its center waited Gravheine.

She ran a hand along the length of the small black viper coiled around her forearm, her reptilian amber eyes never leaving Ellone and the others. Her hood was cast back, allowing her long black hair to spill over her shoulders in an ebony wave. Her weapons were sheathed at her sides, but an aura of incredible power flowed from her nonetheless.

When she spoke, it was to the serpent. "It is time…"

She crouched and stretched out her arm, and the snake slithered off it and to the floor, weaving sinuously across the stone. As Ellone watched with the others in disbelief, the snake grew larger as it went, bigger and bigger in a matter of seconds, coiling around and around itself and hissing coldly as it stretched and expanded again and again.

By the time it was halfway between Gravheine and Ellone, the viper known as H'soth was several feet thick and over a hundred feet long, or would have been had he been stretched out. He opened his mouth to reveal row upon row of curved, daggerlike teeth and long, jutting fangs dripping with venom. His forked tongue shot in and out, in and out, as his hissing grew louder and his amber eyes fixed upon Ellone and the others.

Saying no further words, Gravheine turned and rushed up the stairs.

"Come back!" Ellone called, but to no avail.

"Ellone, look out!" Tifa yelled, slamming her aside as the serpent dove toward her. Ellone rolled, using her momentum to stay on her feet, as Tifa backhanded the snake across the jaw. It roared and snapped at her, but she was too quick, ducking out of the way and spinning around to slam it again with a roundhouse kick that shattered several of its ribs.

Gunfire exploded through the air as Vincent opened fire, the Death Penalty punching through the tough scales to find the flesh beneath. H'soth roared and thrashed his tail, but Vincent leapt over it and kept firing while Rinoa seared the serpent with sorceress fire. Ellone started toward the thing, but again that odd compulsion struck her, that need to hurry on, to reach the top of the tower. She took one last look at her friends as they fought against the viper, started to join them again, then shook her head. No, there was no time.

Ellone turned and ran up the stairs after Gravheine.

----------

"Damn…" Zell whistled, eyeing the tower and battle raging around it.

Sara nodded. "No kidding…"

They were on the _Illumina,_ finally arrived on the scene of battle and flanking the _Ragnarok._ A short distance behind them flew Galbadia Garden, with a host of its SeeD troops leaping by foot and motorcycle to the ground to aid their allies there. Steel and magic flashed as they fought against the demons and dodged the hellish red wisps of the enraged lifestream.

Pulling her gaze away from that sight, Sara looked at the tower. "They're in there?"

"Yeah," Irvine nodded.

"But with those scales covering it, they're trapped inside, even if they win. There's got to be something we can do to help."

Zell pumped his fist. "Yeah! But, uh… what?"

Xu sighed. "Convential weapons fire has had no effect on the scales, so we need to find another way of getting in. Any ideas?"

"I think…" Sara began.

"Yes?"

She swallowed, knowing now what she had to do but not sure she could do it. "I think, if I can get there, I can use my sorceress powers to get us in."

"You sure?" Zell asked.

Although she knew little of how to use them, Sara knew it could be done. How she was so sure, she didn't know—instinct, perhaps, and she was used to listening to her instincts. But would her power come when she called it? She hadn't yet had a chance to use it since Astasia had passed it on to her back in Galbadia. But there was no choice.

Sara met Zell's gaze firmly. "I'm sure."

"Then it's settled," Xu agreed. "I'll contact the other ships, let them know our plan, and then we'll proceed. Sara, you and the others get to the cargo bay so you're ready as soon as we get there. The demons won't give us much time to drop you off, so hurry."

"Understood. We're on our way."

Checking her guns to make sure they were fully loaded, Sara turned and hurried onto the lift with Zell and Irvine and rode it down to the ship's midlevel. It wasn't far from there to the cargo bay, and a few minutes later, they were there. It wouldn't be long before they reached the tower, but for now all Sara could do was wait.

A few minutes later, the comm system chimed and Xu's voice spoke from overhead. "Guys, make sure you're ready. We're almost to the drop point."

Sara tightened her jacket around her shoulders. "Got it."

"Good. One other thing. Our friends from the _Shera _are meeting us there. They're going to send some of their troops to cover you, and someone to give you a hand, Sara. Apparently, she's got powers of her own, so she'll work with you to bring those scales down."

"Got it. What's her name?"

"Iseldra. She's got blue skin, so she'll be easy to pick out. The other ships and I will try to keep the demons off your backs long enough for you to get through."

Zell tugged on his fighting gloves. "Alright, let's rock!"

The cargo bay ramp opened, and in the gloom outside, Sara could see the front of the tower not a hundred yards away. She hurried down the ramp, the wind roaring in her ears, and crouched with Zell and Irvine on either side of her. Their friends from the other world, Yuffie and Barret, did likewise nearby as the tower loomed ever larger ahead. Eighty yards, seventy… sixty… fifty… forty. That would have to be enough.

Sara drew in her breath and jumped.

----------

Ellone skidded to a halt as she reached the small chamber at the top of the stairs, up in the very highest heights of the tower, and held her bladestaff ready before her. Her chest ached as the cold touch of death slowly began to work through it, but she braced herself against the pain and focused on the task ahead.

Before her stood Gravheine, serpentsteel blades drawn, and behind her hovered the stone sarcophagus. The engravings on its surface glowed with a soft amber light that filled the chamber with its soft luminescence and created shifting, murky shadows across the pulsing black stone of the walls. Ellone sensed rather than saw the dark presence waiting within the sarcophagus, and the black mist flowing out of it.

"End this, Gravheine," Ellone said. "You can still turn back."

She shook her head. "I cannot do that. This moment, this day… I have waited for it for far too long. Three thousand years…"

Ellone looked at her, at the woman who was not so different from herself, and wondered. "Why? I saw what happened to you, but why all this?"

"Do you know, Ellone, what it is to love?" Gravheine asked softly. "To love so deeply and so fiercely that nothing, not even yourself, can stand in its way? My life, my love… they were torn from me, by my own people. I all but wiped them out over the centuries, through plagues and Lunar Cries and Jenovas… but still, it did not bring him back…"

"And this will?"

Gravheine glanced at the sarcophagus and nodded. "Yes. Yes, it will…"

_Ellone, let me talk to her._

It was Atrus, in her head once more. Ellone knew what he was asking, but if it would deter Gravheine from her course, then she would let him try. It was the least she could do after all he had done for her. Ellone relaxed hesr body, bowed her head slightly and cleared her mind, allowing Atrus to use her once more. _Go ahead, it's alright._

No sooner had she sent the thought than a shiver ran through her body and she felt herself gently pushed aside as Atrus spoke through her again as he had that night so many weeks ago at the base of Gaia's Cliff. Her voice was overlaid with his in a sort of aural rippling effect that both chilled her and left her in awe. _"Gravheine, can you… can you hear me?"_

The other woman's eyes widened. "Is… is that you, Atrus?"

"_Yes, it's me. Listen, I don't have much time, Gravheine, but you have to stop this! Seddhira's using you, just like she's used everyone else! Fight her!"_

"No, I cannot! All of this, it was done for you! For us! I cannot abandon it now!"

Atrus let one hand go from the bladestaff and reached out to her. "_Our time ended long ago. There's only one way we can be together now. You know that."_

"No! I won't do it!" Gravheine snarled, backing off. Her body quivered with rage. "I cannot believe you would ask this of me! Not when I am so close to bringing you back!"

"_I—aah!"_ Atrus' voice abruptly faded as Ellone doubled over in sudden pain, spikes of cold agony shooting out from her chest to race down her body. Her voice and her body were suddenly her own again, and she clutched her heart and fought to orient herself. It was coming faster now, and only the dim echoes of Atrus' voice lingered in her mind. She tried to call out to him, but he was beyond her reach. Was he gone?

She had no time to think about it, for Gravheine was upon her in an instant, serpentsteels whirling viciously toward her. Ellone whipped up her bladestaff just in time to parry the twin blows, got her feet under her, and shoved Gravheine back. She spun the bladestaff around in a tight arc, rotating along with it and sweeping her weapon high and fast and slicing it backhand toward Gravheine's midsection.

Her opponent deftly blocked the attack, however, steel clanging against steel, and swept her own blades underneath Ellone's weapon before she could recover. Still, she moved quickly enough that Gravheine's curved swords cut their parallel tracks into the back of her upper arm instead of across her belly. Pain stung her almost immediately, but she ignored it and the wetness of her own blood seeping out from the wounds and concentrated on the battle instead.

Ellone rolled to her right, ducking as Gravheine swept one of the serpentsteels high and followed it with the other in low and from the other side. Parrying both attacks, Ellone slashed the tip of the bladestaff across Gravheine's thigh, tearing through the fabric of her robes and drawing a bright line of blood. The woman seethed, whirled around with her hands crackling as they grasped her weapons, and the next thing Ellone knew, bolts of amber energy were slamming into her and tossing her into the wall.

Her head ringing, she shook off her sudden dizziness, planted the tip of her bladestaff on the ground so it was standing upright, grabbed it by the top of the shaft, and spun herself around with a yell. Her feet slammed full into Gravheine's chest and she went flying as Ellone flipped backwards and landed nimbly on her toes with one hand flat on the floor and the other stretched out above her, clutching the bladestaff. She looked up, her brown eyes blazing as they locked onto Gravheine, and charged.

----------

Squall got Lionheart up just in time to block Odine's rush, batting aside one of his bladelike appendages as Cloud ducked low and sliced at the thing's belly. His weapons struck true, but Odine's hide was as thick and hard as a ruby dragon's scales and the blades managed only a scratch. Squall spun, jumped, and cut at Odine's sword-arm and managed to cut a gash that left a thick line of blackish-green ichor and an enraged roar by the thing Odine had become. Squall pulled the gunblade's trigger for good measure, and the lower part of the arm exploded as Cloud darted aside, his lefthand sword ripping along the demon's side as he went.

Continuing his assault, Squall pounded Odine with blow after blow, Lionheart's blue-white steel searing through the mutant flesh as Cloud brought both of his swords around in a double forehand slash that carved a pair of parallel gashes across Odine's back. The demon roared, its wings flaring, and swiped first at Cloud and then Squall, but hit only air. Squall rolled left as Cloud dove to the right. "Damn, this thing's still going…"

Cloud grimaced. "Then we'll keep on hitting it. Don't let up!"

Squall nodded. "Right. Let's get to work."

They did so, dodging Odine's blows with lightning fast reflexes honed by countless battles. The demon was a ferocious opponent, but not a fast one. Squall raced in, dragging Lionheart behind him and building up energy. Just as he reached the demon's towering form, Squall jumped, sweeping Lionheart up with him in a tight, vicious arc that cut a deep gouge across Odine's chest. A narrow column of fire shot up around Squall in Lionheart's wake, searing Odine in a blinding explosion.

Squall landed and his eyes widened as he saw the tower's entrance. Or rather, where it should have been. "Shit! Cloud, we're sealed in!"

"Can't worry about that now!" Cloud grunted, slapping his swords together as one and burying that single huge blade deep into Odine's body. "Gotta take this bastard out first!"

As he finished, Cloud leapt straight up, pulling his sword along with him, and there was the sound of meat ripping off a bone. The demon that was Odine roared in pain and anger and managed to backhand Cloud with one of its smaller arms. Cloud went flying but managed to right himself in midair and landed on his feet, sword ready.

Squall cut and slashed at Odine again and again, pulling the trigger of his gunblade each time, but the demon still wouldn't fall. Its remaining bladed arm nearly took his head off, but he spun away from it just in time while Cloud pressed the assault from the other side, hitting Odine with slash after furious slash of his massive sword.

Suddenly the thing rose up, its wings flaring out, and flew around the chamber. It swooped low at Squall, who had to dive aside to get away from the sudden volley of fireballs it hurled from the claws of its smaller arms. Squall sprang to his feet and was just bracing himself to meet Odine's next rush when a sudden explosion of green fire lit up the chamber and threw the demon into the far wall like a child's playtoy.

Squall blinked and realized he was side by side with Cloud. The hilt of his friend's sword was glowing pale green, and Squall thought he saw something like a palm-sized orb fixed into it, but the light flickered and died before he could be sure. In its wake, Odine swooped toward them, flinging more fireballs and slashing wickedly with his blade-arm when he came near. Squall dove left and Cloud to the right, barely evading the attacks as the floor where they had been erupted in a blast of hellish flame.

Nodding to Cloud, Squall rushed at Odine as his friend did likewise. Their swords hit at precisely the same moment and in almost the same place. Squall ran on, dragging Lionheart across Odine's mutated form as Cloud did the same with his sword in the opposite direction, so that their paths crossed in an X pattern. Blue-white fire seared Odine as the two swords met with a clang and then went on, carried by their respective owners with them as they raced away from each other and Odine until finally turning around to face him again.

The demon roared and slammed a fist into the ground, sending huge cracks rippling through the floor. Squall barely managed to stay on his feet, but Cloud was already in the air, leaping high and cleaving at Odine with a huge overhead chop that sent the demon reeling. Squall took advantage of the opening and hit Odine with a series of powerful blows, the gunblade's trigger punctuating each one with a ferocious whipcrack explosion.

Suddenly Odine curled in upon himself, and violet light rippled across his mutated body. Then his wings flared outward and his body unfolded in an instant like a spring. Searing bolts of energy shot from his eyes and wings and flew toward Squall and Cloud like homing missiles. Squall dove, dodging aside as several of the bolts slammed into the place where he'd been standing, but in his haste he lost his grip on Lionheart and the gunblade skittered away across the floor. In the wake of the blast, smoke filled the room, and Squall realized he'd lost sight of Cloud. Where the hell was he?

A huge form suddenly swallowed Squall's vision before he could get to his feet, and any questions about his friend's whereabouts fled from his mind. Odine swept his blade-arm down, intending to cleave Squall in two where he lay, still trying to get his bearings, but the arm abruptly struck steel mere seconds into its descent.

Cloud roared as he cut through the smoke and parried Odine's blow, and in that instant Squall rolled to his right, grabbed Lionheart, and got to his feet. He ran in, cutting and slashing for all he was worth as Cloud did the same, and together they slowly drove Odine back. The demon rose up into the air again, but Squall was faster. He jumped up and sliced Lionheart right through the tender membrane of one of Odine's feathered wings, giving it a blast with the trigger as he did so. The demon crashed to the ground with a roar, its shattered wings twitching feebly, and struggled to get up.

"Cloud!" Squall yelled as he landed, "Now, while he's down!"

"Let's finish it," Cloud agreed.

Squall ran in, Lionheart raised, as Cloud did the same with his sword. Raining blow after blow down upon Odine's battered form, Squall slammed the thing into the air, jumped up, and slashed at him again and again, energy building up inside Lionheart with every blow. As he did so, Cloud joined him, cutting at Odine repeatedly from all sides. The demon bled freely now from over a dozen wounds and thrashed and struck at Squall and Cloud, but none of Odine's attacks landed. Another wing was gone, sheared off in one of Cloud's attacks, and another of his arms was gone as well thanks to Lionheart.

At the peak of his jump, when he was directly above Odine, Squall slammed Lionheart down right across Odine's mutated head. The demon's roar was lost in that of the brilliant fireball explosion that erupted upon impact. Squall leapt away as Odine fell, but just before the demon landed, Cloud clicked a switch on his sword hilt and it detached into half a dozen smaller blades. Cloud hurled the swords into the air, where they hovered for an instant around Odine, and in that moment Cloud darted from one blade to the next, taking them and cutting into the demon again and again with sword after sword, until he finally rose up high into the air, his sword now one again, and slammed it full into Odine's face.

Odine exploded.

----------

"Damn," Seifer swore, "looks like Matron's in trouble!"

Quistis followed his gaze, looking out from Galbadia Garden's bridge to the blue bulk of Balamb Garden not so far away and to their left. Black shapes swarmed all over it and inside it, and Quistis could see flares of gunfire and magic as the SeeDs and cadets within fought against them. SeeDs from Galbadia Garden had leapt aboard via the motorbike ramps to help, but not enough. And it wouldn't be long before the demons made it to the bridge.

Headmaster Martine looked at her and Seifer sharply. "So what are you two still doing here? Go on and get over there. We've got things under control here."

"Thank you, sir," Quistis breathed.

She exchanged a determined glance with Seifer while Martine gave orders to adjust the Garden's course to bring it closer to its sister vessel. Quistis hurried off the bridge and through the corridors, ignoring the blaring of the alarms and making her way to the motorbike ramps. She and Seifer wouldn't use those, but it was a section that was open to the sky and thus they could jump from there to Balamb Garden's quad.

Minutes later, they were there. Balamb Garden's blue dome filled Quistis's vision, and it was so close that it almost touched Galbadia Garden's crimson hull. Demons swarmed over the quad along with knots of desperately fighting SeeDs and cadets. Quistis was willing to bet that the halls were filled with them.

"Ready?" she looked at Seifer.

He flashed her his familiar smirk. "Time to clean house!"

Quistis smiled back, tightened her fingers around the handle of her whip, and ran full out toward the edge of the launch area, Seifer keeping pace with her at her side. They jumped at almost the same instant as they reached the edge, and a second later the concrete floor of Balamb Garden's quad was beneath their feet. Quistis never stopped moving but instead snapped her whip out to her left, catching a creeper in midair and flinging it away as Seifer cut another in two with his gunblade and ran along with her.

"Head for the bridge!" Quistis told him. "That's got to be where Matron is."

Seifer nodded. "Right. And if we're lucky, we'll bump into Raijin and Fujin on the way. They're still here, last I heard."

"That'll help, but they probably have their hands full already. Let's go!"

"After you," Seifer grinned.

-----------

Rinoa leapt to the side as the giant viper closed in, its jaws gaping wide and its tail thrashing madly. Still moving, Rinoa let loose with the sorceress fire, hardly giving it any thought at all but simply letting it erupt from her hands at will. She wasn't sure whether she was in control of her power or her power was in control of her, but at the moment it didn't matter. The white-hot fire blazed within her so fiercely she felt like a conduit in an electrical circuit.

Streaks of white flame shot from her fingers and scorched H'soth's dark scales, but the viper hissed and surged on, singed but not greatly damaged. Rinoa scrambled away just as the thing's tail whipped right at her. It missed, sweeping through the air where she had been, and over it leapt Tifa, who let loose into H'soth's side with a brutal string of punches and kicks that left the giant snake hissing with rage and pain.

Rinoa unleashed every spell she could think of, one after another, everything from blasts of ice and lightning to pounding meteorites and the green inferno of Ultima. The serpent shuddered but did not falter, surging toward her with surprising speed given its huge size. In the midst of it all was Vincent, shooting round after blazing round from the Death Penalty and deftly whirling and flying around the room in the crimson and black form he called Chaos.

H'soth reared back, his jaws wide, and breathed a cloud of noxious vapor into the air. Plumes of the ugly green gas swallowed Rinoa's vision, and she coughed and wheezed and heard Tifa doing the same. Fighting off a wave of dizziness, Rinoa ran toward the sound of Tifa's voice and found her friend gasping for breath as the vapors washed over her.

Vincent swooped low, his winged form cutting through the gas like a knife, and fired a shot at the side of the serpent's head. H'soth hissed madly but jerked away, the sudden motion disrupting his deadly exhalations as he did so. That opening was all Rinoa needed. She gathered her powers and sent the sorceress fire out again, not into H'soth, but into the gas, igniting it in a flare of white light and burning it away.

While Vincent kept flying around and blasting H'soth with the Death Penalty, Rinoa helped Tifa to her feet. Tifa smiled gratefully as she steadied herself and nodded grimly, her hands clenching into fists. Her leather gloves were smeared with H'soth's black blood. Her smile faded in an instant, however, as her gaze slipped past Rinoa.

"Look out!"

Rinoa whirled around, but too late. The viper's tail slammed full into her chest before she could get away, and she went flying. Her startled shriek was abruptly cut off as she hit the wall, and she tumbled to the floor in an untidy heap, pain filling every part of her body.

Tifa darted over to her side. "Rinoa! Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," Rinoa answered, taking her friend's offered hand and standing up. "Just had the wind knocked out of me. Come on!"

Together, she and Tifa raced toward H'soth, Rinoa shooting out more white sorceress fire as she did so. The blast caught the serpent in the jaw as Tifa somersaulted onto its back, whirled around, and ran up its spine to the base of its neck. H'soth thrashed and spun wildly, but Tifa could not be dislodged. She drew back her fist until it glowed with energy, then slammed it into the base of the giant serpent's skull.

H'soth hissed even louder and snapped his head back, but at that very instant Vincent flew down in front of his face and fired twice with the Death Penalty. The viper's eyes burst open with a sickening pop, and as H'soth's jaws opened even wider in pain and fury and his head thrashed frantically back and forth, Rinoa jumped up and shot out her hands, sending a line of white fire right down the serpent's throat.

H'soth's head exploded.

As the dead serpent's body finally collapsed and Tifa leapt away, Rinoa landed and lowered her arms and let the sorceress fire go out. Tifa came down nimbly on her toes as Vincent hovered nearby, his face grim. He was looking around, but not at H'soth's corpse. Vincent's gaze darted swiftly around the room. "Where's Ellone?"

For the first time, Rinoa realized her friend wasn't here. "Oh, no! Where is she?"

"She must have gone upstairs after Gravheine," Tifa reasoned.

"Then that's where we're going," Vincent decided.

Rinoa hurried toward the stairs with the others, but she couldn't help her dismay. "I should have been paying more attention. Squall told me not to let her out of my sight."

"It's not your fault," Tifa told her. "None of us saw her leave."

"I just hope we're not too late to help her."

Vincent flew behind them as they started up the winding steps. "We won't be. She needs you, and you'll be there."

"We all will," Rinoa agreed. "Let's go!"

----------

Ellone dashed across the chamber toward Gravheine, spinning her bladestaff around as she did so. But Gravheine was quicker, managing to get her feet under her and land in a defensive position, so that by the time Ellone reached her, the serpentsteels were already there to block her attack. Gravheine swatted the bladestaff away and whipped her weapons back in a tight double slash that Ellone barely managed to avoid.

Steel rang on steel as she and Gravheine fought, the battle taking them all around the small room at the top of the tower. Ellone avoided the sarcophagus, sensing the malevolent will within it and wondering why Seddhira hadn't yet made herself known. What was she waiting for? Ellone could feel the Queen watching her, and the back of her neck prickled with gooseflesh as a chill ran down her spine. What was really going on here?

Her thoughts scattered as she blocked first one vicious strike from Gravheine and then another, batting aside both blades and swinging the bladestaff in low. Gravheine backflipped away with inhuman agility, her robes fluttering around her, and landed across the room. She didn't attack right away, though, but instead eyed Ellone warily.

"Well fought," Gravheine said, "but we are not yet finished."

She spun the serpentsteels around with their edges facing away from each other until the coiled snaketail hilts clicked together. Grasping her reformed bladestaff in both hands, Gravheine narrowed her amber eyes and darted toward Ellone at blinding speed, whirling her weapon up high in a short but vicious cut.

Ellone whipped up her own bladestaff in an instant, parrying the blow, but Gravheine didn't let up. She struck again and again, slashing and thrusting and spinning, but Ellone dodged and blocked every time. Still, she had no opening to launch an attack of her own, so hard did Gravheine press the attack. And the chill within her body was growing, sapping her strength. She had to end this quickly, but how?

Her blood sizzled with power, but whether it was flowing into or out of the bladestaff, Ellone could not be sure. Nevertheless, she found it was hers to command. Drawing upon it, tightening her fingers around the shaft of her weapon, Ellone opened herself to her power fully for the first time, letting it flow through her and act through her at will.

The bladestaff—_her_ bladestaff—suddenly began to glow a blinding white, and when Ellone parried Gravheine's next blow, she did not merely block the other woman's weapon with her own. She slammed it away, sending Gravheine's arm out wide, and the sheer force of it threw the other woman stumbling back.

Ellone swept her bladestaff in toward Gravheine, moving with almost inhuman speed herself, but Gravheine recovered almost instantly and parried the blow. Steel clashed against steel, but still neither Ellone nor Gravheine could find no way to edge the battle in their favor. Ellone's power surged, and she rained down blow after blow at Gravheine, but the other woman had the reflexes of a cat, and she deflected each attack before it could land.

Spinning, dodging, and dashing around the room, Ellone fought. Her blood was on fire, sweat coated her skin, and her bladestaff was ablaze with white light. She swept it high and then low, quick as lighting, but Gravheine blocked both strikes and launched one of her own. Metal clanged as Ellone slammed her bladestaff up against Gravheine's, and for a moment they were in a deadlock, pushing with all their might against the other weapon. Ellone's dark brown eyes met Gravheine's amber ones, and narrowed.

"I'll stop you," she breathed.

Gravheine sneered. "You can try."

Suddenly her bladestaff flared with amber light, and she shoved Ellone back and was upon her in a flash. Ellone parried the blows but was driven steadily back until she bumped into the wall. It was smooth and oddly warm, but she barely noticed as Gravheine jabbed the bladestaff right at her like a spear. Ellone dodged but not soon enough, as the blade grazed her hip.

Gritting her teeth against the stinging pain, Ellone swept her bladestaff up and into Gravheine's from underneath, knocking it aside long enough for her to plant a kick squarely in the other woman's gut. Gravheine's eyes widened as she flew back and hit the side of the sarcophagus, and Ellone was on her in a heartbeat, thrusting her bladestaff toward her chest. Gravheine managed to push it aside with her weapon at the last second, so that it went through her shoulder instead of her ribs.

Wrenching the bladestaff free, Ellone whipped it around, intending to lay it against Gravheine's throat, but the other woman batted it aside and hurled bolts of amber energy from her free hand. They slammed into Ellone's chest and she staggered back but managed to stay on her feet and block the next swipe of Gravheine's bladestaff.

Ellone clutched her heart and winced, feeling the cold deepening. She didn't have much time. Summoning her last bit of strength, she straightened and charged at Gravheine again with a yell. Adrenaline rushed through her as she slashed and cut and thrust with her bladestaff again and again, forcing Gravheine back. She gave the other woman no chance to counter, no opening for escape. She had to end it now.

Slamming her weapon against Gravheine's with all her strength, Ellone hit her again and again, driving her past the sarcophagus and toward the far wall, near the stairs. Gravheine tried to block her assault, but Ellone did not let up, did not lessen the pressure of her attacks. She could not. She spun and whirled like a dervish, striking from the left and right and then left again, steel smashing relentlessly against steel again and again and finally slamming it out of Gravheine's hands as she crumpled to the floor.

"So, you bested me after all…" she panted.

Ellone pressed the tip of her bladestaff lightly against Gravheine's heart. "It's over. I'm going to end this, with or without your he— aah!"

Pain, sudden and sharp, ripped through Ellone in an instant, and the world swam before her. Her heart turned to ice, and her limbs to lead. Her bladestaff clattered to the floor as she doubled over and clutched at her heart, gasping in pain as she did so. Her blood went from fire to ice in an instant, and suddenly her legs had no strength.

The wounds from Sa'miel's blade wrenched themselves open again with such flaring pain that it stung Ellone's eyes with tears and ripped an agonized cry from her throat, and blood stained both the front and back of her sleeveless top and seeped through her fingers as she grasped at her chest and tried to remember how to breathe. She was falling, and yet she did not fall just yet. Laughter, cold and cruel, echoed in her mind. A woman's laughter.

—_You have found me again, child of the ancient blood. As I knew you would.—_

The black mist that had enveloped the sarcophagus now suddenly stirred to life, coiling in upon itself, gathering itself. Ellone, too weak to move as she hung on the brink of death, could only watch as Seddhira's dark essence shot toward her. It surged right at her, stealing her breath as it slammed her against the wall. Ellone screamed and her body arched back as the mist suddenly dove into her like a dark comet. As her consciousness faded and darkness took her, Ellone heard Seddhira's soft, sensuous voice once more.

—_You are mine.—_

----------

Gravheine staggered to her feet, the pain from her wounds momentarily forgotten as she watched her Queen's essence make its swift, brutal assault upon Ellone. What was happening? Confusion filled Gravheine's mind, and her heart raced as she struggled to understand what was happening. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. This wasn't what she had planned. What was going on? What was her Queen doing?

A few moments later, the black mist was gone, completely contained now within Ellone. The girl stirred, still pale but noticeably more sure in her movements, and stood. She gazed down at herself as if she had never seen herself before, holding her hands before her in silent wonder. Then her lips curled into a small, cold smile, and she looked up. As she did so, Gravheine gasped, for Ellone's eyes were no longer brown. They were amber, reptilian, the pupils not soft circles but instead a pair of narrow, inky black slits.

They were the eyes of the Serpent.


	33. The Serpent Queen

**Chapter 32  
The Serpent Queen**

"At last…" Seddhira murmured.

She spoke with Ellone's voice, in Ellone's body, but it was not Ellone who stood in the tower's highest chamber and stretched her arms out as if to embrace the darkness. And perhaps she was, Gravheine thought. There was a hardness to the girl's voice that hadn't been there before, and a sensuous edge to the soft whisper in which she now spoke.

Gravheine stared at her. "What is going on?"

"Do you not know?" Seddhira smiled coldly, looking at her again. "I am free. My thanks to you, Gravheine, and to your beloved."

"_What?"_ Gravheine's eyes widened.

Raising a hand above her, Seddhira pointed it palm outward at the ceiling, and the top of the tower blew outward in a thunderous explosion of black stone. Gravheine looked up and saw the sky, the dark clouds that blotted out the sun like an eclipse and left the Estharian plains in unnatural night. She heard the din of battle, the roaring of demons, the blasts of gunfire and magic, and the sharp clash of steel.

Seddhira lowered her arm and walked almost lazily across the room. "Did you really think I didn't know? Or that his death was an accident?"

"I… I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't. You never did. You really are far too trusting, Gravheine. Much like Atrus. But it made you both so easy to use."

Gravheine staggered as though she's been hit. Everything she had worked for, all these years alone, they had been for nothing? Had… had the girl been right? Gravheine didn't want to admit it, couldn't admit it. What was she supposed to do? Her mind reeled. She had never felt so lost, so unsure of herself. The pain of her wounds was a mild irritation within the shadow of the sting that now pierced her heart.

Coming to a stop, Seddhira bent down and picked up Gravheine's bladestaff. "Quite a powerful weapon, isn't it? Both of them. I was well aware of what Atrus' could do, and of how much of himself he put into its making. His very soul, you might say. How fortunate that it found its way into the hands of this girl, though I always knew it would. The power of the Centra seeks its own, you understand. As it sought her."

"You knew she would find it?" Gravheine wondered.

"I knew _everything._ Because, you see, _I_ arranged it. I knew Sa'miel would kill her. Did you really think you could have summoned him had not _I_ allowed it? Your power comes from me, as you well know, Gravheine. I knew also that Atrus—or the part of himself he had left behind within his bladestaff—would bring her back. At least, for a time. People like you and your beloved are so very easy to predict, with your bleeding hearts and your willingness to sacrifice. I was counting on it, you see."

Gravheine had to lean against the wall for support. "Why?"

"Through him I was able to ensure that by the time Ellone reached me, her own life would be running out. Hanging as she was upon the very brink of death, she had not the strength to fight me. When I took her, it was almost too easy."

"I cannot believe Atrus would ever have helped you!" Gravheine snarled.

"You did," Seddhira taunted, straightening. She ran a hand along the side of the sarcophagus. "And quite well, at that. You found my prison, and unlocked it. And by doing so, ensured that the girl would come here to stop you, even as her life faded away. That isn't to say that your beloved knew he was helping me, though. The best puppets never sense the strings that move them. Just as you never did."

_She's using you. She's going to betray you._ Ellone's words echoed within Gravheine's mind even as she looked hopelessly around her, numb with shock. How could she not have seen it? How could she have been such a fool? Both Ellone and Atrus had tried to warn her, but she hadn't wanted to see it, hadn't wanted to admit the truth. "I… I'm a puppet…?"

"Blinded by love," Seddhira answered. "It made you so easy to use."

"And what of our agreement?" Gravheine demanded. "What of your promise? I did what you asked of me! Now fulfill your end of the bargain! I wish to be with Atrus again! Or was that yet another of your lies?"

Seddhira walked up to her until she was so close that her body pressed Gravheine's against the wall. Her lip curled into a small, cold smile as her reptilian eyes glittered. "Oh, you'll be with him again. Just not the way you thought."

Pain suddenly ripped through Gravheine's stomach as something long and sharp knifed through it. She gasped, blood streaming from her mouth, and heard the nicking of steel upon stone. Her eyes widened in shock as they looked upon Seddhira's, and then they looked down. The bladestaff—_her_ bladestaff—was now embedded within her abdomen almost to the shaft, the blade itself having gone all the way through her to hit the wall.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe, and then she shrieked as Seddhira wrenched the weapon out of her. Clutching her stomach as blood soaked her robes, Gravheine crumpled to the floor. Pain was everywhere and everything. Shadows clouded her vision, but she didn't know if it was from the darkness of the tower or her own dying consciousness. She lay there in a pool of her own blood and waited for death, waited for the end. But the unnatural vitality given to her so long ago by Seddhira kept it from her, slowly regenerating the sundered flesh.

Perhaps it would have healed in time, but then Seddhira was there, looking at her like a cat which has just gutted a mouse. In her hands she still held Gravheine's bladestaff, one of its serpentsteels slick with her blood, and laughed. "Still clinging to life, I see. I suppose I gave you too much power. But even that won't save you now."

Seddhira stood over her and raised the bladestaff high.

----------

Cloud landed nimbly on his toes as Odine flew apart, and by the time the dust settled, it was over. Squall was nearby, already on the ground and scowling at the sealed entryway. The three motorcycles sat empty just inside, but the gaping hole where the double doors had been was now covered by a layer of thick black stone that shimmered like obsidian.

"Think we can get through?" Cloud wondered.

Squall fired a shot at it with his gunblade, but it didn't even mark the surface. "Doesn't seem likely. Better go after Sis and the others first."

"Right. Not much we can do he—"

Suddenly a whisper of wind swept through the chamber like ghostly laughter. Cloud braced himself, gripping his sword tight and scanning the room as Squall did likewise. At first, nothing showed itself, and Cloud wondered if he wasn't imagining things. But then the shadows around them began to move, flowing out from the walls like fog. Then they solidified into the lean, bony forms of shadowcreepers as they closed in on all sides, forcing Cloud and Squall to stand back to back with their weapons ready.

"There sure are a lot of 'em," Squall muttered.

"Yeah," Cloud answered. "Might be trouble if one more shows up."

Squall smirked. "Then that'll be the one _I_ take care of."

"What, you're fighting, too?" Cloud quipped.

In answer, Squall leapt at the demon nearest him as Cloud did likewise, and together they cut and slashed into the creepers with furious abandon. The air filled with black ash as demon after demon went down, but more kept coming. Cloud detached one of his blades to fight with two swords, but no matter how many of the creatures he and Squall destroyed, more billowed forth from the black, pulsing walls of the chamber.

----------

Sara hit the ground, rolled to her feet, and ran toward the tower, blasting a pair of nightwings with her guns as she did so. Zell landed next to her and slammed a fist into a creeper's jaw and kicked it away as Irvine sheared through another with his pulse ammo. Barret and Yuffie were there half a second later, cutting through the demons with bullets and shuriken to open up a path to the tower as the _Illumina_ veered away.

"Yo, Sara!" Zell called. "Wait up!"

But she couldn't. There wasn't time. Firing at any demons that came at her, Sara raced across the short stretch of barren plain between her and the tower and was just starting up the stairs when the air around her suddenly went cold and a pair of winged, hooded shapes emerged from the gloom of the tower, grasping sharp, curving swords within their clawed fingers. Their cold eyes glittered malevolently, and Sara kidded to a halt.

Sara fired, but even her enhanced ammo did nothing to the creatures. Their swords moved before she did, slicing through her guns as though they were butter. Staggering back, Sara dropped her ruined weapons and stared at the horrid things, wondering how she was going to get past them. Not even Irvine's shots affected them. He and the rest joined her as the demons closed in, but then a curved, blue-white sword was flying end over end through the air, ice steaming from the blade as it embedded itself full into the twisted face of one of the winged fiends.

The thing screeched and writhed, but its motion was abruptly halted as it swiftly turned into ice, freezing solid in a matter of seconds. For a moment it merely stood there like some hellish statue coated with frost and tinged a deep blue. And then it exploded, forcing Sara and the others to duck as shards of frozen demonflesh flew everywhere.

A blue-skinned hand caught the ice sword as it went flying, and when Sara stood up again, she saw the rest of the figure to whom the hand and the sword belonged. A woman with pale blue skin and darker blue hair came to stand by her side, dressed in black and accompanied by a handful of companions. A huge red panther with an odd blue cat on its back ripped apart a creeper with its claws and teeth while a slender girl with coppery hair cut through another with a pair of glowing orange energy sabers.

There was no time for introductions, though, for the second winged demon was already launching itself at Sara and the others. Few of their attacks made any impact upon the creature, who moved too swiftly for the blue-skinned woman to strike at now that the advantage of surprise was lost. Creepers and nightwings attacked from all sides, as well as huge serpents that must have been fifty feet long and two feet thick.

Sara stood helplessly in the middle of it all, her weapons destroyed, as her friends and allies fought around her. What was she supposed to do now? How could she fight? Her guns were gone, and her dagger would be of little use against these things. She knew something of martial arts, but it wasn't her specialty the way it was for Zell. Still, it was better than nothing. And she had to get to the tower somehow.

Suddenly the massive demon was surging toward her, its feathered wings spread wide and its sword descending. Instinctively, Sara fell into herself, realizing there was another way, one she hadn't yet considered and which frightened her more than a little. But she had no choice. It was either that or be killed, and she hadn't come all this way just to die here.

With a yell, she unleashed the sorceress fire.

Unlike Rinoa's power, Sara's was raw and untamed, and it exploded out of her in an instant. The white fire didn't shoot from her hands but instead from her entire body, blasting out from her in a scintillating globe of searing whiteness to rip apart the dark shapes that surrounded her. The winged fiend was vaporized instantly as the unnatural darkness covering the plains was for a moment burned away.

Sara swooned. "Oh, _man…"_

"Sara!" Zell caught her as she was about to fall. "You okay?"

"I… I think so. It just… caught me off guard, that's all. I didn't know how strong it was. I'll be alright, though. I can stand now."

And she could, after a moment, although Zell didn't let go of her right way. Sara didn't mind. In the wake of her attack, the demons had fallen back. For the moment, anyway. Sara had no doubt they would be back. But she had bought herself and the others a few minutes, at least. She looked at her new allies from the _Shera_ and hoped they would be enough.

The blue-skinned woman addressed her. "You must be Sara. That was… impressive."

"Thank you… I think," Sara replied. "Sorry if I scared you guys. My power's still new to me, and I guess it went a little out of control there."

"I can understand that," the blue-skinned woman agreed.

Irvine tipped his hat. "So, you're Iseldra?"

"Yes. I'd introduce the others, but there isn't time. Sara, come with me. We need to work together to force an opening in the scales."

"Got it," Sara nodded. "Zell, you and the rest watch our backs."

Zell tightened his gloves and grinned. "No prob, Sara! Me and the others'll keep those things off ya! Don't you worry!"

"I won't," she smiled.

Hurrying up the stairs, Sara followed Iseldra to the base of the tower, where the double doors had once been, and laid her hands upon the thick black scales that now covered it. Iseldra stood next to her and did likewise as Zell and the others spread out with their backs to them. Sara could hear the demons coming, could sense their presence, but she pushed her thoughts aside and concentrated solely on her power and on bringing it to bear upon the scales.

Iseldra spoke without looking up. "Concentrate, Sara. The barrier is strong."

"So are we," Sara replied.

----------

"Ellone!"

Rinoa's voice rang through the small chamber as she, Tifa, and Vincent hurried inside. Ellone was there, standing over Gravheine with her weapon raised. But there was something odd in the way she stood, something strange that Rinoa couldn't quite place at first. Then it hit her, and she stopped so suddenly that Tifa, who was behind her, almost ran into her.

Ellone was holding Gravheine's bladestaff, not hers, and she was poised to plunge it right into the other woman's heart. But that couldn't be right, could it? Ellone was no killer, yet here she was, about to take the life of her enemy not in battle but in cold blood. Then she turned ever so slowly, lowering her weapon but not releasing it, and Rinoa gasped. It was Ellone who stood before her, and yet it wasn't.

Her eyes were amber, the pupils inky black slits.

"What… what's happened to you?" Rinoa breathed.

"She can't hear you," Seddhira said. Her voice was Ellone's, but harder, huskier. "This body is mine now, little sorceress."

Vincent narrowed his eyes. "Let her go!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I've waited far too long for this moment, and for her."

"You were waiting for her?" Tifa asked.

Seddhira walked across the chamber toward them, her steps soft and sinous. "Why, of course. To exist in this world, I require a body, a physical form. But not just any body. As I was once a Centra, so my host must also be. The girl's heritage and power made her a perfect choice, and through Gravheine I was able to ensure that she would come here."

"But she is dying," Vincent pointed out.

"Which is exactly what I intended. As weak as she was, she could not resist me. And with my power, I can sustain this body indefinitely."

Vincent, still cloaked within the form of Chaos, growled. "Release her. Now."

"If I go, she dies," Seddhira whispered. "Is that what you really want? When she could instead live forever, through me?"

"She would rather die as herself than live as your slave."

Seddhira held up her free hand, palm outward, and suddenly something like a huge invisible hand slammed into Rinoa and her friends and threw them against the wall. She groaned and slumped to the floor, Tifa landing next to her on one side while Vincent fell to one knee on the other, his wings lying limp over his shoulders. As Rinoa and her friends struggled against the unseen weight pinning them down, Seddhira stepped lithely over to where Vincent knelt and bent down so her body was pressed close to his.

"We can be together eternally, you and I," Seddhira teased, stroking his face, and although her voice was soft, Rinoa heard it clearly. "You already know this body quite well, after all. It's still the same, even now. The woman you love stands before you. It is her voice you hear and her touch that you feel now, yes? Come with me, and you can be together for all time. And I will free you from Chaos, if you wish. My power can do this."

Vincent glared at her. "You… are _not_ Ellone. Get out."

"Fool!" Seddhira hissed, rising to her feet. "You'll die with the rest of your friends, then. But not before you see for yourself the planet's true nature."

"What… what do you mean?" Rinoa said.

Seddhira turned to her and pointed to the open sky and the dark clouds roiling above her. "The darkness gathers, little sorceress. And through it, I will feed."

"Feed? On what?"

"Souls. Both those in the lifestream and those of the living. All will be mine, all will give me power and life without end."

Even as she spoke, a chill wind swept through the chamber, and in its wake, a dozen tendrils or more of the red lifestream shot up from outside the walls and dove into the room. They twisted and whirled around Seddhira and then dove into her one after the other. She stretched her arms out wide as the scarlet threads continued to pour into her, and after a moment she slowly began to rise into the air until she was hovering a few feet above the floor.

Lightning ripped across the sky, and thunder exploded in Rinoa's ears. The wind intensified, wailing like a banshee. Her hair whipped around her face as the walls of the chamber fell away and more of the lifestream poured in, surging up from the ground far below to race up the sides of the tower until they found their way here. They flowed into Seddhira, into Ellone, in an almost constant stream, and in their wake Rinoa heard a keening, mournful wail that seemed to come from all around her.

The cry of the planet.

----------

_What have I done?_

Gravheine lay forgotten on the floor as her Queen fed upon the lifestream, upon the planet itself. She wanted to die, but she didn't. Pain wracked her body, blood stained her robes and the stone floor beneath her, but still she lived. Why? Why shouldn't she die, after all she had done? Why shouldn't she be punished?

As she lay there, wrapped in pain both physical and deeply emotional, Gravheine ignored the wailings of the planet and the sight of Seddhira floating triumphantly nearby. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Her chance to be with Atrus again was lost. She had been used, duped like the fool she was. She deserved to die.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. She blinked, not quite sure what she was seeing, but it was no illusion. Ellone's bladestaff lay just out of arm's reach, and it was still glowing. What did that mean? Gravheine wasn't sure she wanted to touch it, but her curiosity won out over her pain. Slowly, she inched her way across the floor, somehow not wanting to alert Seddhira to what she was doing. Why, she couldn't say, only that she was tired of being a puppet, tired of being that demon queen's plaything.

As Gravheine closed her fingers around the shaft of the bladestaff, warmth flooded her body, easing the pain, and white light filled her vision. What was this? Somehow she was no longer in the tower, or least her consciousness wasn't. She was standing, although she didn't remember having done so. Her body was unmarked, healed, but why? How?

"Gravheine…"

She looked up, and her eyes widened. "Atrus…?"

It was him. He was here, just as she remembered him. His gentle blue eyes and his ponytail of long, sandy hair were just as she remembered them, his travel-worn clothes the same soft brown leathers he had worn that last night he had come to see her. There was no blood on his faded white tunic, nothing to mark the wound that had taken his life so long ago.

"I'm here, Gravhiene," he whispered. "I've always been here for you."

"But.. how? I don't understand…"

He nodded. "I know. I don't fully understand it, myself. But the planet… that is, Holy… took a part of myself and bound it to the bladestaff when I forged it. At the time, I didn't know why it was so important, why She asked it of me. But now I do."

"Why?" Gravheine asked. "Why did She do this?"

"For you, Gravheine. For us. We've been apart for three thousand years, separated by death and darkness. But even now, She's given us a chance to be together again. Because together, we can save Her. Holy knew this would happen. That was why She allowed me to linger on instead of returning to Her and to the lifestream."

Could she do it? Could she save the planet she had once sworn to destroy? Gravheine didn't know. She had walked away from the light, embraced the shadow. How could one such as she ever come back? But… before her stood Atrus, her love. Her heart ached at the sight of him, at the thought of being in his arms again.

But that couldn't be. She had walked too far in the darkness for that. How could he ever want her after the terrible things she had done, after seeing for himself what she had become? She turned away, not wanting to see the sadness that would surely be upon his face as he at last understood. The woman Atrus had loved was dead, had died long ago.

"Gravheine…" he murmured.

"I know what I am, Atrus. What the darkness has made of me. I am not the woman you knew, the woman you loved. She is… long gone…"

A hand touched her cheek, then, ever so lightly, and gently turned her face back to his. Gravheine reached up, almost afraid as her fingers slid over top of his and her eyes closed. It felt so real, his touch, as though he were really there and not just a spirit. Had the planet… had She given her what Seddhira had not?

Something small and wet slid down Gravheine's cheek, and after a moment she realized it was a tear. Another followed, from the other side, and her eyes opened again to find Atrus' gentle blue ones looking at her with the same love he always had. "I think she's still here, somewhere. All you have to do is let her out."

"I… did not think I had any tears left…" Gravheine marveled.

Atrus smiled. "But you do. That means you're still human, and that the darkness hasn't taken you fully. I've always loved you, Gravheine. And I always will."

"Even… even as you see me now?"

In answer, he leaned in close and touched his lips to hers. More tears escaped her eyes as she returned his kiss, hardly daring to believe that it was real, that this was really happening. But it was. He was here. Somehow, he was here. Gravheine clung to him as he held her close, and for many moments there were no words, only the soft pressure of her mouth against his, the gentle caress of his fingers across her cheek.

"I had not thought it possible…" Gravheine said at last.

She smiled, warmth filling that cold place in her heart for the first time in so many long years. If only to stay here, in this moment, forever. But she knew it couldn't be. Not yet. There were things yet that had to be done, wrongs that had to be made right.

Atrus nodded. "There isn't anything in this world that can change how much I love you. Not even the powers of a demon queen. I see what she's done to you, but that isn't you, Gravheine. It never was. It was her, using you. That's all."

"Then who am I?" Gravheine asked.

"I think you know. I think you've always known, because deep down, she's never left. She's always been there, waiting for you to come back to her."

Gravheine swallowed. "Is it… is it still possible?"

"Anything's possible. All you have to do is let go of your hate and your pain. Let the planet take them away from you and set you free."

"Free… yes, I… I want to be free…"

And she did. More than anything, she did. A soft breeze swept over her, enveloping her in a gentle whisper of sound. Gravheine let her eyes close and stretched out her arms, welcoming the light that surrounded her now. Her hair tingled as she shook it out and let the light wind play across it, and a gentle coolness seeped beneath the closed lids of her eyes to soothe her corneas. The continual burning within her veins faded and was gone.

When she at last opened her eyes, Gravheine saw at once that things were different. Her black robes were gone. In their place were robes of purest white. As she gazed in wonder upon her new clothing, she glimpsed her forearms and gasped. The faint bite marks left by H'soth—eternal reminders of her service to Seddhira—were gone. Competely gone. Healed as if they had never been. Gravheine felt fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, but she didn't care. A look at her shoulder and the hair spilling over it confirmed what she already knew. It was no longer jet black, but reddish brown, as it had once been long ago. That left only—

"My eyes!" Gravheine asked. "Atrus, what do my eyes look like?"

He smiled fondly and kissed her again. "They're perfect, Gravheine. And as brown and beautiful as I remember."

Gravheine threw her arms around him then, not caring about anything else. She wept and kissed him and hugged him fiercely, not wanting to ever leave his embrace ever again. For the first time in three thousand years, she was happy, truly happy. She had found not only Atrus, but herself as well. How could she have ever given this up?

She kissed him. "Thank you so much, Atrus. You brought me back."

"I had to," he smiled, "because I love you."

"I… I love you, too."

Atrus pressed his lips to hers, more passionately this time, and Gravheine thought she knew why. The light was starting to break up, and she could no longer feel his back as she had just moments before. When she pulled away, he was like a ghost, and through him Gravheine could vaguely see herself kneeling by the glowing bladestaff as Seddhira hovered a few feet above the stone floor and the dark storms raged just outside. Dozens of writhing and twisting crimson tendrils of the corrupted lifestream shot through the rubble where the walls had been and dove into her, into the dying girl whose body she had stolen.

Guilt festered in Gravheine's heart, and anger. Not at herself, but at Seddhira. She looked up at Atrus. "The girl. Can we help her?"

"The sorceress can free her, but not alone. Seddhira's much too strong as she is now. But, if the corruption within the lifestream were to be undone, it would weaken the Queen long enough for Rinoa to bring Ellone back to herself."

"Even if it worked, Atrus, she would still die."

He looked at her knowingly. "Maybe not. I couldn't have reached you without Ellone's help, Gravheine. We owe it to her."

"You don't have to explain it to me," Gravheine smiled. "I know."

"Then you'll do it? You'll take her place?"

Gravheine nodded, drawing him close for one last kiss. "I will. I've caused her so much pain, it is only right that I be the one to atone for it."

As he faded away, Atrus smiled. "See you soon."

"Will you be waiting for me?" Gravheine asked. "Will I find you again?"

"Always."

----------

By the time the blinding glare of the white materia had faded, Gravheine knew she was back in the tower. Thunder exploded in her ears as lighting ripped across the sky through the twisting black clouds that blotted out the sun. Before her hovered Seddhira, arms wide as the corrupted lifestream flowed into her. The sorceress and her friends were on the floor, either prone or on their knees but nevertheless held in place by the Serpent Queen's overwhelming power.

Wind whipped past Gravheine's face, tossing the russet strands of her hair and the sleeves of her white robes as she stood up, Ellone's bladestaff grasped firmly in her hands. Seddhira hadn't yet noticed her, but Gravheine knew that wouldn't last. Moving quickly, she whipped the bladestaff in a tight sideways arc that slammed the snake-hilted bladestaff from Seddhira's grasp.

"_No!"_ Seddhira yelled.

Ignoring the other woman's snarl of rage, Gravheine grabbed her from behind and pulled her out of the air, her arm deftly wrapping around the other woman's chest and dragging her back and to the side. As she did so, Gravheine thrust her other arm—the one holding the bladestaff—out before her, in between herself and the lifestream.

Gravheine dove into herself as fast as she could and called upon the white materia's power. The stone, already glowing from its place on the shaft of Ellone's bladestaff, exploded with light. A shimmering crescent of searing whiteness shot out from it and into the lifestream, turning it from its unnatural crimson hue back into a pale, tranquil green.

Her hair flying behind her as the wind rose and the lifestream swirled around her, Gravheine fought to hold Seddhira in place. The dark queen's power was immense, however, and when she slammed her open palm into Gravheine's back, pain exploded through her like a lightning storm, and she screamed. Nevertheless, she didn't let go. Neither could Seddhira pull herself free, so strong was Gravheine's hold upon her.

Gravheine staggered but stayed on her feet and continued to hold the bladestaff out before her, between herself and the lifestream, allowing the white materia's power to cleanse the corruption that had infested it. As she did so, her eyes quickly found the young woman who was one of Ellone's friends. With the interruption of Seddhira's concentration, she and the others had been instantly released from her spell and were even now springing to their feet.

"Sorceress Rinoa!" Gravheine called. "Free her! Do it now!"

----------

No sooner had Gravheine spoken than Seddhira suddenly twisted free of her grasp, her reptilian eyes blazing with hate, and threw her across the room with a blast of dark energy. Although she didn't understand Gravheine's sudden transformation from enemy to ally, Rinoa winced as she saw the other woman hit the floor and groan.

Seddhira turned to gloat for just a moment, but that was enough. Rinoa knew what she had to do, what only she as a sorceress could do. Calling upon her power, she thrust her hands out before her and concentrated on bringing Ellone back out of the darkness, on casting the spirit of the Serpent Queen from her body.

Light enveloped Seddhira, and she whirled around. "No! She is mine!"

"Let her go!" Rinoa demanded.

"Never!" Seddhira snarled. "This body belongs to me!"

Rinoa's eyes narrowed. "Let her _go!"_

As she shouted the last word, light exploded around her, and from her back sprang the soft, angelic wings that only appeared when her power was at its peak. They flared out wide, the feathers glowing dazzlingly bright, and suddenly Seddhira was flooded with blinding whiteness. She screamed as the light slammed into her and lifted her off the ground. For a moment she hung there as Rinoa struggled to separate parasite and host, and then the black mist flew out of Ellone's body, the scream now seeming to come from it instead of her, and dove with an angry yell into the open sarcophagus.

The light faded, and so did Rinoa's wings. As she lowered her arms, Ellone started to fall. Vincent was there in an instant, however, shimmering back into his human form and brushing past Rinoa to catch her. Rinoa staggered and nearly fell herself, but then a steadying hand was on her shoulder, and she nodded gratefully to Tifa. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. But what's going to happen to Elle?"

"I'm not sure," Rinoa shook her head.

----------

"Look!" Reeve pointed.

On the bridge of the _Shera,_ Cid and Rufus followed his gaze, noticing almost at once what he was talking about. Rufus nodded. "The lifestream is returning to normal."

"And it's tearin' the shit outta the demons now!" Cid added.

Reeve saw that it was true. A moment before, the endless tendrils of the lifestream had been an angry red and had struck heavily at the ground forces fighting against the seemingly endless black hordes that sprang from it. Now, however, light was racing all through the lifestream, and in its wake, the vast coils of spirit energy turned back to a pale green and began ripping apart the very demons they had spawned.

"Did they do it?" Reeve wondered.

Rufus folded his arms. "They've done something, at least. But our foes are still many. Even the lifestream has its limits."

"What about our team outside?"

"Hopefully this will give them the time they need to break through the barrier," Rufus replied, "but I'll have Reno keep the _Wingnut_ close, just in case."

Reeve nodded. "Good idea. Anything we can do?"

"We've been circlin' the tower and blasting as many of these bastards as we can," Cid said, "an' for now that's all we can do. I hate it, too, man."

"Be ready to pick them up quickly if we need to, though."

Cid puffed on his cigarette and nodded. "I will, old buddy. I will."

----------

When she came to, Ellone gasped in pain. "Ohh…"

"Ellone?" a familiar voice whispered. A voice she loved. Vincent's voice.

As her eyes—once more dark brown and human—fluttered open, Ellone realized she was lying on the floor, her head and shoulders gently cradled in Vincent's arms. Above her, the open sky roiled and writhed, the black storm clouds frothing like a witch's brew as lightning tore through them. But it was far away, distant, the sound somehow muffled.

Her gaze returned to Vincent. "I… Vincent, it's me… she… she's gone now, but… I can't… I can't feel… anything. I can't… hardly… move…"

"Can you feel this?" Vincent took her hand in his.

A tear slid from her eye, and she shook her head ever so slightly. It was all she could do. "No… I can't. I… I wish I could…"

"You shall," a new voice murmured.

Ellone blinked in surprise. "Gravheine…?"

It was her, and yet it wasn't. Something had happened to her that Ellone had missed, something powerful. Her hair and eyes were different, no longer bearing the cursed visage of the Serpent Queen but that of Gravheine's own true self. The russet strands flowed around her shoulders almost with a life of their own, and her brown, human eyes shone with determination and, Ellone thought, a peace that the other woman must not have known for millennia. Her robes, now white instead of black, seemed almost to glow.

"Say nothing, Ellone. Be still. Seddhira is wounded but not yet destroyed. You must do what you came to do, you and the sorceress."

Ellone saw that Rinoa and Tifa were crouching nearby and looking at her with concern. Tifa cast an occasional glance at the stone sarcophagus, but as yet Seddhira had made no further move. Her shrieks of rage could still be heard, and Ellone knew it wouldn't be long before the Serpent Queen had gathered herself enough to strike again.

Still, how could she stop her? Ellone sighed. "It… it's too late…"

"No," Gravheine knelt beside her, on the opposite side from Vincent. "It is not. I can still save you, and I will."

"But… you know… what that means…!"

Gravheine smiled sadly. "I do. But if by helping you, I can end this terror that I have brought into the world, I do not mind."

"Gravheine…"

"Quiet, now. I must begin, for we have not much time."

Ellone managed a small nod. "Thank you…"

She could say no more, for the cold touch of death was spreading fast. Her blood was ice in her veins, and her heart a hard lump within her ribs. She felt heavy, drowsy, and weak. Ellone shivered as her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. Her eyes felt locked in place, and her throat was closing down to a bare pinhole.

Then Gravheine was gently laying one hand upon Ellone's heart and the other upon her forehead. Ellone heard her whispering something in Centran, but she couldn't tell what it was. A soft breeze swept over her, cool but soothing, and Ellone found she could breathe again. But even as she began to hope, black shapes suddenly swirled above her.

"Keep them away!" Gravheine ordered the others. "I cannot be disturbed, or she is lost!"

Ellone saw Tifa and Rinoa fly into action, pummeling and scorching the demons that swept in, and an occasional explosion of thunder almost in her ear told her that Vincent was shooting them down if they came too close. But it was still so far away, in another world almost, and Ellone felt herself slipping into darkness.

"Stay with me, Ellone," Vincent urged. "I love you."

Ellone felt Gravheine's fingers tracing the wound in her chest, much like she herself had done when she had saved Marlene at Gaea's Cliff so many nights ago. It seemed another lifetime, another age, now. Would she ever see her young friend again?

Then suddenly Gravheine was aglow with light, and her eyes slid closed. Pale green tendrils of the lifestream flowed from her and dove into Ellone along with the light, and Ellone gasped and her eyes went wide. At first, she couldn't move, so tightly was she in death's grasp. But after a moment, the numbing cold began to fade, and her blood began to flow and her heart to soften as the torn tissue was mended.

The bleeding stopped, and strength returned to her body as her wounds closed. Ellone breathed, hardly able to believe she was still alive, and tenderly squeezed the hand that held Vincent's. He squeezed his in return and shot down another demon as he did so, all without looking away from her. The sounds were closer now, real, as they should have been.

At the same time, however, Gravheine seemed to sag. She grew pale, as though all the warmth and life had gone from her. And perhaps it had, Ellone realized. Into herself. Gravheine's breathing grew shallower, more labored, as Ellone's had been only moments ago. Suddenly she gasped and arched back, wincing in pain as an unseen blade seemed to cut through her in the exact same place where Sa'miel's sword had done so to Ellone.

"Gravheine!" Ellone cried, sitting up.

The other woman doubled over as blood spilled across her chest and back. "It is done. Ellone… the black materia… it binds… Seddhira… to this world. As does… the sarcophagus… and what lies within it. Destroy them… and you destroy her…"

Ellone stood and took her hands. "I'll finish it. I promise."

"I… can hold this back… for a short time… long enough to… send you to the base of the tower… when the Queen is gone…"

"Ellone," Vincent picked up her bladestaff and held it out to her.

She took it, glad to have it back, and smiled at him. "Thanks. Now let's do what we came here to do. Watch my back."

"Always," Vincent said, and kissed her.

For the first time since this entire journey had begun, Ellone felt like herself again. She felt alive, and as she sliced a nightwing in two with her bladestaff and returned Tifa and Rinoa's relieved smiles as they saw she was healed, she felt strong, stronger than she had ever felt in her life. She looked back once at Gravheine, who was on her knees and clutching her chest with a pained expression on her face that Ellone knew all too well, for she had worn it herself too many times. But that was over now. Gravheine nodded, and Ellone nodded back.

It was time to end this.


	34. Endgame

**Chapter 33  
Endgame**

As Ellone turned away and approached the sarcophagus, the black mist stirred. Ellone gazed inside, wondering what she would see. At first there was nothing, so dense was the living darkness that was Seddhira's essence. But beneath it was something else. Ellone shivered as the mist parted and she stared upon the true face of the Serpent Queen.

Within the sarcophagus lay the perfectly preserved corpse of a woman, who in life would have been older than Ellone was now but still young enough that her beauty had not yet begun to give way to the slow but inevitable advance of time. Her straight, dark hair stretched all the way down to her hips and was adorned with a shimmering golden tiara studded with gems, and the generous curves of her body were covered by a close-fitting, sleeveless dress of deepest black. Her slender hands were clasped upon her chest, and resting within them was the black materia, drawn to her with the stone coffin's unsealing.

At first, Ellone wondered why Seddhira hadn't tried to inhabit her own body, but then it came to her. That body was already dead, had been dead for thousands of years. Seddhira had needed one that was still living, albeit just barely. That plan had been stopped, but Ellone knew that the Serpent Queen would try again.

"She is well-preserved," Vincent remarked.

Ellone nodded. "There's powerful magic here. Sorceress magic, I think. Rinoa?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I feel it, too."

"Ready?"

Rinoa nodded. "Rea—"

Suddenly the black mist dove into the body lying within the sarcophagus, laughing madly as it did so. The woman's fingers stirred, and her eyes opened. They were a serpent's eyes, as Gravheine's had been, amber with inky black slits for pupils. She sat up, caught Rinoa by the throat, and threw her across the room. With her other hand, Seddhira thrust the black materia high, and Ellone cried out as she and Vincent were suddenly hurled away by an invisible hand. Ellone grunted as she hit the floor hard on the back of her shoulder and looked up to see Tifa barely managing to stay on her feet as the shockwave hit her.

Seddhira rose out of the sarcophagus, hovering in the air and floating across the room until she was only a few yards from Ellone. The Serpent Queen gazed cruelly at her, her reptilian eyes glittering, and began to laugh. She kept laughing as her legs and feet fused together and her body from the waist down darkened and elongated and grew dark, shimmering scales. In a moment's time, her lower body had become that of a huge, black viper.

Nor was that the only change. A second and then a third pair of arms, identical to the first, grew from her shoulders, and two pairs of wicked, curving swords shimmered from the darkness and into her hands. Seddhira raised one of her other hands, and the snake-hilted bladestaff flew into her grasp as well, separating as it did so into its two curved, serpentsteel blades. Three vast pairs of dark, feathered wings sprouted from her back as the black materia floated out of her fingers and sank halfway into the center of her chest like some dark, pulsing heart.

"You are mine, child of the ancient blood!" she hissed. "One way or another!"

Ellone rose to her feet, her friends doing likewise beside her, and narrowed her eyes. "Using your body to take mine? Clever, but it won't work."

"You will watch your friends die, and then I will bring you to the edge of death yourself! You will become my vessel, child. It is unavoidable. It is your destiny…"

"No, it's not. You won't take me again!"

Seddhira whipped her tail around. "We shall see, young fool. We shall see."

"It is you… who are the fool, Seddhira," Gravheine laughed painfully, "for… by entering your body… you have doomed yourself… to destruction…"

"Silence, traitor!"

Gravheine shook her head. "I will never obey you again! Your power… over me… is broken. The one you seek… will destroy… this form you have taken. And by doing so… destroy you as well… for you have bound yourself to it… to give it motion. You live… but it does not. Your fate… is sealed…"

With an angry hiss, Seddhira lashed out, but Ellone was faster. She spun around and knocked away the demon queen's sword with her bladestaff just before it would have cut Gravheine in two. At the same time, Vincent opened up with the Death Penalty, Rinoa let loose with her sorceress fire, and Tifa sped around behind Seddhira and slammed her with a brutal roundhouse kick and a series of rapid-fire punches.

Ellone whipped the bladestaff around as Seddhira slashed at her with two of her swords. Steel rang against steel as Ellone parried the attacks one after the other, turned, and sliced off one of the demon queen's six arms. Seddhira roared and writhed and struck again, but Ellone quickly leapt aside and over the thing's lashing tail.

In her wake, streaks of white fire scorched the Serpent Queen's side as Rinoa's power cut into her, and the young sorceress' wings flared into life once more and spread wide. She flew deftly around the room, blasting Seddhira from all sides as Vincent did the same with his guns and Tifa kept the pressure on with close-range attacks.

Suddenly, Seddhira let loose a globe of dark power that hurled everyone away. Ellone tumbled to the floor, but Vincent and Tifa managed to get their feet under them and came up standing as Rinoa righted herself in midair and flew back toward Seddhira. Ellone scrambled to her feet and ran in, jumping and spinning around as she did so to slice open a wide gash along Seddhira's scaly hide. The demon queen brought the two serpentsteels to bear against her, but again Ellone blocked the attack, her glowing bladestaff shoving the dark swords aside with little effort. But a swirling of dark shapes overhead drew her away as her enemy's reinforcements arrived in the form of a pack of nightwings.

One of the demons exploded instantly, torn apart by the Death Penalty, and another flew apart a second later as Ellone sliced it in half. Tifa slammed her fist into a third and kicked a fourth in the head as Rinoa scorched two more with her sorceress fire and dodged another of Seddhira's deadly swords. Ellone skewered another nightwing, pulled her weapon free, then jammed its other blade into the nightwing behind her without turning around.

But more were coming. Ellone dove to her right as one of them shrieked in low and fast only to be vaporized by a blast of Rinoa's sorceress fire a second later. Vincent and Tifa took down a handful more as the Serpent Queen glared balefully at Ellone and surged toward her, bringing her top two swords down in a vicious double slash while simultaneously whipping the serpentsteels low and out in a swift crosscut.

Ellone brought up the bladestaff crosswise just in time to block the first attack, then spun away from the second a heartbeat later and swiped at Seddhira with a lefthand slash of her own. Steel sang as the Serpent Queen parried, and then her swords were cutting at her from both above and below, Seddhira's five remaining arms moving with inhuman speed as she struck. Ellone dodged and ducked with the reflexes of a cat, however, slamming aside Seddhira's attacks one after another as her power flowed through her like wildfire.

The others were caught up in dealing with the nightwings, of which there seemed to be no end, and Ellone ripped through a few herself as she fought Seddhira. Thunder exploded around her as she and the Serpent Queen circled around the ruins of the small chamber, and it didn't escape Ellone's attention that Seddhira kept herself between her and the sarcophagus at all times. The crumbling edges where the walls had been were closer than Ellone would have liked, and a quick glimpse over the side showed her the plains of Esthar hundreds of feet below.

Seddhira snapped her tail like a whip, and it hurled at Ellone so fast she almost didn't see it. But she did and somersaulted over it at the last instant. She landed, knocked aside one of the Serpent Queen's swords, parried another, then thrust the bladestaff into her enemy's belly like a spear. Seddhira flinched and snarled and struck at her with the serpentsteels, but Ellone was too quick, wrenching her weapon free and spinning away before the blows could land.

Whirling around to face Seddhira, Ellone suddenly remembered Gravheine's words. She hadn't understood before why the sarcophagus was so important, but now she did. The Serpent Queen's prison had over time become instead her sanctuary, her source of strength. She had intended this all along, to overcome her own body's death by keeping her spirit cut off from the lifestream and thus, from absorption by the planet. So that one day, she could inhabit another body, one that she could keep alive forever.

"Rinoa!" Ellone called out as she blocked another of Seddhira's attacks. "The sarcophagus! It's where her power comes from! Destroy it!"

"_No!"_ Seddhira snarled, whirling around, but she was too late.

Rinoa dove in, blasting through a pair of nightwings, and hovered above and to one side of the sarcophagus. Her angelic wings flapping gracefully, she thrust her arms out before her, and streams of white sorceress fire shot into the stone coffin. The sarcophagus exploded in a blazing white fireball that ripped away the darkness as the Serpent Queen shrieked and trembled with rage and swung her swords at her with abandon.

None of her attacks landed, however, as Rinoa flitted safely away. "Gotcha!"

"Yeah!" Ellone added.

"Let's take it home!"

Ellone was moving even as Seddhira's shuddering body spun back to face her. The bladestaff glowed with power, her power, so dazzlingly bright that the Serpent Queen shrank back from it. Ellone cut and slashed again and again, over and over, spinning and ducking and jumping first one way and then the next as she slammed Seddhira's swords away and hit her with blow after blow. Her movements were a blur, and she wondered vaguely if she was carrying the bladestaff or if it was somehow carrying her.

Slashing off another of Seddhira's arms with a leaping backhand strike, Ellone landed and spun first to the left and then to the right, hitting the Serpent Queen each time with a burning cut from the bladestaff. Ellone's power roared through her veins like an inferno, the old familiar tingling now a firestorm. She gave herself to it, letting it guide her and move her and flow through her as she kept raining blows one after another upon Seddhira's battered form.

Rinoa scorched the Serpent Queen with blasts of sorceress fire from above as Ellone struck from below, and Vincent and Tifa held off the nightwings that screeched and swooped all around them. Roaring in pain and rage, Seddhira charged at Rinoa, but the young sorceress flew backwards, burning her again and again as she did so and keeping well out of reach. Seddhira slashed at her anyway, so maddened had she become, and hurled globes of dark energy at her. Rinoa dodged them easily and responded with blazing streaks of sorceress fire that seared the Serpent Queen's flesh to the bone.

At the same time, Ellone struck again and then once more, moving so quickly that the two blows landed only seconds apart. Faster and faster she went, driven by the bladestaff and her power and the need to destroy this dark thing that had poisoned her life for so long. Ellone was a blur of motion, darting around Seddhira faster than she could blink, landing first one chain of rapid slashes and then another and another and then leaping nimbly away before the Serpent Queen could retaliate. And then suddenly Ellone was everywhere, her power surging within her as she hit Seddhira from half a dozen directions at once.

With a final yell, Ellone whirled around and thrust her bladestaff into Seddhira's exposed back so deeply that it burst out of her chest, and she arched backward and screamed as her swords fell from her hands. Ellone yelled and released her power, sending it into the bladestaff in a scorching nova of white flame that tore the Serpent Queen apart in a brilliant fireball explosion and shattered the black materia into thousands of glittering fragments.

The light shredded the remaining demons in seconds but did not fade. It shot up into the sky and ripped apart the dark clouds, and suddenly Ellone could see the sun. It filled Ellone's vision as she swooned, suddenly weak, and fell. Vincent caught her, and a moment later she felt herself again, and yet somehow not. Something was different. She felt strangely empty. And then, as Rinoa landed and her wings faded away, she knew why.

"My power… it's gone…"

Rinoa nodded. "Mine's going, too. At least, this new stuff."

"That is… as it should be…" Gravheine murmured, limping over to them with Tifa's help. "It was meant… for this day. However… another time… may one day come… so… it will always… be within you. And your children…"

----------

"Holy _shit!"_ Cid gaped.

Reeve's jaw sagged as a vast column of light suddenly shot up from the top of the tower and tore apart the dark storm clouds overhead in a single blinding instant. A moment later, Reeve saw the bright yellow disc of the sun shine down upon the Estharian plains amidst a clear blue sky. And with the coming of the light, the demons—those the lifestream hadn't yet destroyed—shuddered and exploded one after another.

"That's our cue," Rufus said. "Time to pick up our people."

"Alright, everybody, hold on to somethin'!" Cid barked. "We're goin' in hard and fast, so keep your pants on and don't piss in 'em!"

Reeve turned to him. "Order the other ships to pick up as many of our forces as we can. We'll sort out who goes where later."

"Already on it!"

Iseldra's boy Erich had taken to Reeve almost immediately, although he'd had had to hand him over to one of the female crewmen to watch while he conferred with Rufus and Cid. It hadn't even occurred to him until then that he was probably the closest thing to father the boy had. Reeve hadn't known his own very well, having been raised by his mother, but the idea of being a father himself didn't sound all that bad.

Although worry for Iseldra and the others gnawed at him, Reeve ignored it as best he could. There was little he could do about it, anyway. When they had left to help the young sorceress and her friends, Iseldra had put her boy in Reeve's arms and kissed them both goodbye. Admittedly, she was better skilled in combat than Reeve, but a part of him had neverthless wanted to be down there with her, even though he knew his place was here with Cid and Rufus, commanding what was left of the WRO forces.

"She'll be alright," Rufus said.

Reeve raised an eyebrow. "Giving encouragement, Rufus?"

"Merely stating the obvious. She's quite capable, that snow siren of yours. Assuming we get out of this, I may have some use for her."

"I don't think being a Turk was quite the future she had in mind."

Rufus shook his head. "Nothing like that. But both the WRO and myself could certainly use someone with her abilities."

"In what way?"

"We've made contact with a new world, Reeve. She can help us maintain it. Or did you forget that she brought us here?"

Reeve shook his head. "I haven't forgotten."

"Good," Rufus replied. "You always did have a more sensible head on your shoulders than Scarlet and Heidegger. It's probably why you're still here."

"I like to think so."

"As do I. So think about what I've said. She is the gateway to this world, Reeve. The power to cross worlds runs more deeply in her than in the sorceress or the Centra girl upon whom our fates rest. You would be wise to remember that."

Reeve sighed. He knew, perhaps more than he wanted to. Iseldra's power had changed from what Gravheine had given her. The darker shades of it had gone, but her ability to breach the boundary between worlds had sharpened considerably. Reeve could see the wisdom in Rufus' words, in the idea of maintaining contact with this world, but something—intuition, perhaps—told him that Rufus had more in mind than just trade relations and diplomacy. Or maybe it was nothing. At least, Reeve hoped it was nothing.

As the ship descended back down toward the plains and the black spike of the tower loomed larger and larger in the bridge windows, Reeve strained to see a glimpse of Iseldra or Shelke or one of the others down there. But the _Shera_ was still high in the air, and it was all but impossible to even see anyone at this altitude, let alone recognize them. It wouldn't be long, though, before they were low enough that his friends could get back on board once they had taken care of business down there. In the meantime, though, all Reeve could do was wait.

----------

Quistis snapped her whip at the last of the demons on the Garden's bridge and turned to Matron Edea. "Are you alright?"

"I am unharmed. But what about my daughter?"

"We checked on the way here," Seifer answered, pulling his gunblade out of the creeper he'd just killed. "Raijin and Fujin kept her safe for ya."

Matron nodded. "Thank you, Seifer. Now we must—"

"Look!" Quistis pointed.

The others followed her gaze as they watched the light sweep across the sky, taking the storm clouds with it and leaving the sun bright and warm in its wake. Demons crumbled by the thousands or were ripped asunder by the cleansed lifestream as the tower shook uncontrollably and pieces of it fell away one after another.

"Hah!" Seifer chuckled. "Figured they'd do it."

"We're getting a message from the _Ragnarok,_" Quistis said as the communications panel flashed. "They're gathering our forces now. Orders, Matron?"

Edea smiled. "We will help as we can. Our Garden is safe now, so let us bring the survivors on board and then put some distance between ourselves and the tower."

"Say no more," Seifer smirked. "Come on, Quis! We've still got work to do."

"As always," Quistis laughed.

----------

Ellone grabbed onto Vincent as the ground suddenly shook beneath her and great chunks of the floor began falling away. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Gather near… to me…" Gravheine said. Her face was drawn, haggard.

"Come with us," Ellone urged.

Gravheine smiled and shook her head. "I cannot. But… thank you. I must stay here… to finish what you have begun…"

"You mean Seddhira's still alive?"

"In a sense. This tower… is a part of her. So long as it exists… so too will she. Though it crumble… it will not fall. Not unless… it is destroyed…"

Ellone tightened her grasp on the bladestaff. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"No," Gravheine insisted. "I must do this… alone…"

"Are you sure?"

Gravheine nodded. "Yes. But… I will need the bladestaff, for its power alone… is the only thing that can… unmake this place."

For a moment, Ellone didn't move. She believed Gravheine, but the thought of giving up her weapon was more difficult than she had thought. It had become a part of her, a part of who she was. Even though her own power as it had become was gone and with it her connection to Atrus, she had become so accustomed to carrying the bladestaff that she would feel almost naked without it. When had that happened?

"Only the bladestaff can do this?" Ellone asked.

"Yes. But… do not fear. You will find another way… to protect those you love."

Reluctantly, Ellone handed it to her. Her gaze lingered over it as she did so, for she knew that even if she were to make another, it would only be a weapon, nothing more. It would have none of the power of this one, imbued as it was with the essence of Holy. But perhaps that was the very thing that was needed here. If so, then she could live with that.

"Good luck," Ellone said.

"Thank you, Ellone. And farewell. May you… find the happiness… you have surely earned. Stay still, now. This will take… but a moment. And when… you are free of this place… get as far away from it as you can."

Gravheine stretched out her arms, and light poured softly from them and enveloped Ellone and the others. She felt queasy for a moment, almost like she was falling, and then she wasn't in the top of the tower anymore. She wasn't sure where she was, for the light was everywhere, and then a second later it shot out all around her, incinerating the demons infesting the large room that she and the others emerged in, one Ellone recognized as being the entry chamber of the tower. And then a familiar voice was calling to her from close by.

"Sis! You're alive!" Squall exclaimed.

Cloud was there, too. "Nice entrance. Everything taken care of?"

Ellone nodded, already running toward the _Blackbird._ "Yeah. I'll explain later. Right now we've got to get out of here."

"That might be a pro—" Squall began.

A sudden explosion of white fire cut him off as the entire front wall of the room flew apart along with the scaly barrier that had encased it. Throwing her arm in front of her to shield herself, Ellone dove aside as the others did likewise. She coughed as dust filled her throat for a moment but managed to get to her feet in time to see two young women standing where the wall had been. One she recognized as Sara, Zell's girlfriend, and the other was the frost maiden Iseldra. But what were they doing here?

Sara blinked. "We did it!"

"We did," Iseldra agreed. "And just in time, it seems."

Just past them, Zell and Irvine were just finishing off a handful of the remaining demons along with Barret, Yuffie, Red, Cait Sith, and a coppery-haired girl Ellone didn't know. Still, they were her friends, and she was glad they had come. Glad, too, that she was alive to see them again. Then she remembered Gravheine and what she had to do.

"We've got to get away from here, guys!" she said. "This place is gonna be destroyed at any minute! Hurry!"

"Yo, you're okay!" Zell whooped. "Alright!"

Yuffie sliced one of the demons with her shuriken and grinned widely. "Haven't had this much fun in ages! Oh, yeah! We rock!"

"I think we should get moving," the coppery-haired girl stated, lowering her energy sabers. "The tower's structural integrity is failing quickly."

"Aw, nuts! You're no fun, Shelke!"

Barret grunted. "She got a point, though, runt. This place ain't safe. But it's good to see you okay, Elle! Real good, that."

"Thanks," Ellone smiled.

A huge shape suddenly blotted out the sky, but it was only the familiar bulk of the _Shera._ The airship swooped in low to hover just a hundred yards or so from the tower's base, and the cargo bay ramp opened wide as Cid's voice came over the loudspeakers. "Stop yappin' and get the hell on board, numbskulls! We ain't got all day!"

"You heard the man," Cloud addressed everyone. "Get going!"

Ellone hopped onto the _Blackbird_ behind Vincent as Cloud and Tifa mounted _Fenrir_ and Squall and Rinoa leapt onto the _Lion's Pride._ The others were already running toward the airship as the three motorcycles roared to life and shot out of the tower. Ellone could see that the Turks' chopper was already inside, and then so was she as the bikes quickly crossed the short distance across the plains and sped up the ramp.

The ship was taking off again before they had even pulled to a stop inside the cargo bay, and by the time Ellone had dismounted and hurried after Vincent and the others to the bridge, the _Shera_ was already climbing high into the sky. Although she was happy to be with her friends again and with Vincent, her thoughts returned once more to Gravheine. And to Atrus, to whom she wished she could have said goodbye.

----------

The tower shook around her, but Gravheine gave it no notice. For the first time in three thousand years, she was at peace. She steadied herself against the pain that wracked her body, the weakness and the deathly chill that had so nearly consumed Ellone. But the girl was free of those wounds, now, and perhaps others than ran deeper still. Freeing her had, Gravheine knew, freed herself as well. It had been the final step, one that Gravheine did not regret now in these final moments of her life.

She was tired, so very tired. But it was a good kind of weariness, and she would not rest alone. Atrus was there waiting for her, and she would see him soon. But first, she had one last task to perform, one final act of atonement to make. Gravheine looked up and saw the surviving airships flying away, the two Gardens close behind them, and knew that it was time.

Beneath her feet, the floor of this small, shattered room trembled with more than just vibrations. Seddhira's will ran strong through the place, and although her fleshly body had been destroyed, this too was her body, her being. Given time, she might have been able to gather the remnants of her shattered essence from the living stone that formed this place, enough to manifest again. But she would not have that chance. Gravheine would see to that.

—_Come back to me.—_

Seddhira's voice, whispered and seductive. But its power was broken. Gravheine would heed it no longer. "Never! Never shall I return to you!"

Grasping the shaft of the bladestaff in both hands, she held the weapon before her straight up and down, parallel to herself, and sent into it the last of her power. Ignoring the fresh pain that her movements caused, she raised the glowing weapon high and slammed it point first into the floor of the small chamber.

—_What are you doing? No!—_

"Taste the death you have for so long eluded," Gravheine smiled grimly. "Oblivion awaits you, Serpent Queen. As for me, I go to the one who loves me."

No sooner had the bladestaff hit the ground than a line of white fire shot out from its tip and slammed down through the tower. A vast, shimmering sphere of light exploded in all directions, and Seddhira's last, dying wail was abruptly cut off as the entire tower blew apart in a chain reaction of blinding explosions. Light filled Gravheine's vision and seared her flesh, her blood, and her very bones with its burning brightness. It consumed her as it consumed the tower, but she felt no fear as death finally took her.

She felt only joy.

----------

On the bridge of the _Shera,_ Ellone watched in stunned silence with the others as Seddhira's dark tower was wracked with explosions one after another until the entire thing suddenly flew apart in a blazing supernova eruption of white fire. The light raced across the plains in a vast, searing globe of energy that incinerated the last of the demons and flared so brightly that it momentarily outshone the sun, forcing Ellone and the others to shield their eyes.

Turbulence suddenly grabbed the ship and shook it like some giant child's playtoy, and Ellone had to grab on to Vincent to stay on her feet. She heard Cid swearing furiously and the bridge crew chattering nervously as they fought to keep the ship aloft, and although the _Shera_ was a fast ship, the light was faster, and it overtook the ship in seconds. Ellone braced herself, but there was nothing, only a series of mild vibrations in the hull and the deck as the energy from the explosion passed over the _Shera_ in one swift instant.

Yet as it did so, something happened. For just the briefest of moments, one that Ellone would remember for the rest of her life, she found herself within the light. Time seemed to stop, to have no meaning here, in this place of consciousness. She simply existed. For how long, she couldn't say. And then, there in the light, she saw them. And smiled.

"Atrus!" she called. "Gravheine!"

They were there, together, in one another's arms. At the sound of her voice, Gravheine raised her head from Atrus' shoulder and smiled. "Hello, Ellone."

"I'm so glad I could see you guys again," Ellone said, her eyes growing moist.

Atrus smiled. "So am I. It's good to finally meet you like this. I've wanted to for so long. Thanks, Ellone. For everything."

"It was my pleasure. And… thank you, too."

"You'll be alright, now?" he asked.

Ellone nodded. "Yeah. I think I will. I really do."

"Farewell," Gravheine said, letting go of Atrus to take Ellone's hands in hers for a moment. "I wish we could have met on better terms."

"So do I. But you made the right choice in the end."

Gravheine nodded and smiled. "We'll be here, when your time does come to return to the planet. But until then, Ellone, live well."

"Thank you," Ellone replied. "I will."

"Goodbye," Atrus said, hugging her briefly as Gravheine let go of her hands. "I'm glad I got to know you. Vincent's a lucky man, indeed."

Ellone blushed. "Oh, stop that!"

Finally he stepped away, gently clasping Gravheine's hand in his and raising the other in a parting wave as the light began to break up. "You've got a wonderful life ahead of you, Ellone. Go on and live it."

Ellone nodded, unable to find any words as she watched Atrus and Gravheine walk away hand in hand into the light. They looked back once over their shoulders, their eyes warm as they met hers, and then they were gone, fading into the light as though they had never been. Ellone's gaze never left the place where she had last seen them, even as the light itself softened and the sights and sounds of the real world gradually began to return.

Soon she could hear Cid cussing out the crew and smell the smoke from his cigarette. She could hear the steady thrumming of the _Shera_'s engines, and she could feel the soft, reassuring weight of Vincent's arm upon her shoulder. Yet she saw none of it, not yet. Instead she continued to stare out through the bridge windows at a place in the bright afternoon sky beyond. Or perhaps at something farther away, somewhere in the light that was no longer there. When she did finally look away, however, tears glistened in her eyes.

But she was smiling.


	35. Aftermath

**Chapter 34  
Aftermath**

Lyrics from "Calling" by Kyosuke Himuro from the _FFVII: Advent Children_ soundtrack

"You sure about this?" Cloud asked.

Vincent nodded. He had never been more sure about anything in his life. "Yeah. It's time for me to start over."

He, Ellone, and the rest of his friends from the world that had once been his were standing by the docks in Fisherman's Horizon, three weeks after the Serpent Queen's defeat. The late summer sun shone brightly overhead in a clear, early afternoon sky, and it felt good. This entire place felt good, he thought. And so did he, for the first time he could remember.

With the demons and their Queen destroyed in both worlds by Holy and the cleansed lifestream, the dark shadow of recent weeks was gone. Repairs had been made to the airships and the Gardens, wounds had been mended, and all that remained was for Cloud and the rest to return home. Except, Vincent thought, for him. He _was_ home.

Beside him, Ellone smiled. "Don't worry, we'll keep in touch."

"You'd better!" Tifa teased, hugging her. "And take good care of Vincent, will you?"

"I will," Ellone laughed.

Vincent was certain of that. He would miss his friends, of course, but with the new modifications Cid had made to the _Shera_ with Iseldra's help, the massive airship could make the jump between worlds with less of a strain on the vessel's power and propulsion systems than before, and the same adjustments had also been made to the other airships as well.

So far it seemed to have worked, as Rufus and the Turks had returned to their own world an hour ago aboard the _Condor,_ the only surviving airship from the WRO attack force that had been led by the _Valiant._ It would be some time before live interworld communication was possible, but this was a beginning. Of what, Vincent wasn't sure, but it would be interesting to find out.

Yuffie, standing with Barret and Red on the ramp leading into the _Shera'_s cargo bay, grinned and winked at him. "Just be sure to invite us to the wedding, you two!"

"Wha…?" Vincent blinked.

Ellone's cheeks flamed crimson. "Oh, um, we will…"

"Speaking of which," Tifa said, "Squall and Rinoa's is next month. So we'll see you then! And you _have_ to come see us when I have my baby."

"We wouldn't miss it," Ellone promised.

Cid chuckled. "Gonna be one helluva party! 'Bout time, too!"

"Damn straight!" Barret added. "Been waitin' to be a godfather for who knows how damn long. Thought I was gonna be a grandpa first."

Yuffie suddenly collapsed in helpless gales of laughter, chuckling so hard as she doubled over that tears leaked from her eyes. She had to grasp the side of the ramp to steady herself, and even then it was at least a minute or two before she managed to compose herself. She kept giggling in spite of herself, and Vincent wondered if she was going to have another fit. She didn't, but she didn't stop, either.

"The hell's so funny, squirt?" Barret growled.

"Just imagining you as a grandpa!" Yuffie giggled helplessly. "You'd be a crotchety old geezer, that's for sure!"

Barret raised his metal fist. "I'd still be able to kick your scrawny ass any damn day!"

"Only if I let you! Grandpa!"

"Aw, hell…" Barret muttered, shaking his head. "I ain't livin' this down, am I?"

Tifa patted his shoulder encouragingly and smiled. "Nope. But I think you'll be a wonderful grandpa someday."

"Not you, too!"

"Sucker," Cid snickered.

Barret glared at him. "Ain't you s'posed to be gettin' this bucket ready to go?"

"I will, just as soon as I finish my smoke. A man's gotta have his priorities. And don't call my baby a bucket, 'less you plan on stayin' here."

"Yeah, yeah…" Barret muttered.

So it went for a few more minutes, Vincent saying little as was his custom while his friends bantered amiably around him. He would miss it, of course, even if he didn't take part it in all that much himself. There were some things, he thought, that did not change even if others did. But it was alright. He had grown accustomed to choosing his words carefully, and his friends to his quietness. It would be odd, not being there with them anymore, not being able to listen to them chat and tease each other as they so often did.

Ellone smiled knowingly at him. "You miss them already, don't you?"

"You know me well," Vincent admitted.

"So tell them. It's not like we can just drive down the road to see them anymore. We won't be able to call them, either. Not that you ever used your phone much."

Vincent shrugged. "Yuffie kept calling me."

"I can imagine," Ellone chuckled. "But you'll miss that, too, I think."

"Maybe. I can live without it."

Ellone nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, everyone's already said their goodbyes to Squall and the others. So all that's left is us."

"Right," Vincent sighed. "Better get it over with."

It was harder than he thought. How did one do this? It wasn't as though he hadn't been away from them for long periods of time, because he had. But Ellone had been right. He couldn't just stop by anymore if he wanted to visit. It was more difficult now, and as yet phone signals couldn't travel between worlds.

It would be a relief not to have to put up with Yuffie's incessant yammering, but at the same time, Vincent didn't like the idea of being cut off from her and the others so completely. As much as he valued his solitude, there were times that he wanted more to be with his friends, even if he rarely said so to them. Yet to be with Ellone, it was a price he would pay gladly.

"Yuffie," he said, figuring he'd start with her. "Try and stay out of trouble."

Barret rolled his eyes. "Hopeless, if ya ask me."

"Hey!" Yuffie glared at him. "I can be good! It's not like I still steal materia or anything. Most of the time, anyway. I'll be an angel, Water God's honor!"

"Eh, she'll only last a day," Cid said.

Barret looked at him. "I say she won't even last that long."

"I say that's a bet. Fifty gil?"

"A hundred says she lasts two," Cloud chimed in. "She'll try for Vincent's sake, but that'll only hold her back for so long."

"What?" Yuffie sputtered. "Oh, that's it! Two hundred says I can!"

Cid grinned. "You're on, squirt!"

"Hah! So, uh… exactly how long are we talking, here? A week, maybe?"

"A month," Cloud said.

Yuffie's eyes widened and she looked as though she were about to choke. "W-What? I mean… a whole month? You're holdin' me to this for that long?"

"You could always pay us now," Cloud shrugged. "It's up to you."

"So if I don't screw anything up for a month, I get two hundred from each of you. But if I do, um… accidentally… get in trouble…"

Cid finished for her. "You cough up two hundred for each of us."

"Fine! But I'll be the one laughing next month when I win the bet! Just you wait and see! My dad's not even gonna know who I am, I'll be so good!"

"Keep dreamin', runt," Barret snickered.

Taking a final puff on his cigarette, Cid tossed it to the ground and rubbed it out with his boot. "Alright, folks, it's about that time."

"Cid," Vincent said, "My regards to your wife."

"Thanks. I'll tell her. Just as long as you two stop by for tea whenever you swing back our way. She don't get to entertain company that often, you know."

Vincent nodded. "Right. We will."

"I look forward to meeting her," Ellone added.

"She'll like you just fine, miss," Cid grinned. "Anyhow, I gotta get this baby ready to roll. Man, it's been one helluva party, ain't it?"

With that, the crusty pilot ambled up the ramp and into the ship, followed by Yuffie, who was already starting to look a little green. Vincent wasn't at all surprised. But he would still miss her, just as he would miss the rest of them.

After exchanging farewells with Red and Barret, who soon followed Cid and Yuffie inside, Vincent turned to Reeve. He was with Shelke, for Iseldra and her son were already on board. Vincent understood the ice maiden's hesitation to join them, even if he felt it unwarranted. Still, it wasn't for him to say anything of it.

"Reeve, do me a favor," Vincent said.

The other man nodded. "Of course. What is it?"

"Look after Shelke. And be watchful of Rufus. I don't trust him. Keep us informed of what's going on over there."

"I'll do that. Good luck, Vincent."

Reeve shook his hand, hugged Ellone, and then headed inside. Shelke lingered for a moment, however. "Lucrecia would be happy for you, Vincent Valentine. As I am."

"I know," Vincent agreed.

And then she, too, was gone, smiling softly and slipping away into the ship. That left only Cloud and Tifa. Cloud held out his hand. "I guess this is it."

Vincent shook it. "Yeah. Watch out for everyone, Cloud."

"I always do," Cloud grinned.

"And that's why we all love you," Tifa teased gently, slipping an arm around Cloud's waist and smirking at him. "Even if you _are_ a head case."

Vincent nodded to her. "Take care, Tifa."

"You too, Vincent," she replied, letting go of Cloud for a moment to hug first Vincent and then Ellone. "Both of you."

"We will," Ellone smiled.

As Tifa and Cloud hurried on board and the ramp closed behind them, the _Shera_'s engines roared to life, kicking up a light breeze that ruffled the sleeves of Vincent's black button-down shirt and the hem of Ellone's white skirt. Vincent watched as the airship rose gracefully into the air and headed west. He and Ellone watched until the _Shera_ was only a tiny dot on the horizon. For a moment, the vessel seemed to stretch, and then there was a brilliant flash of white light as the _Shera_ flew through the sky as though fired from a giant slingshot.

A second later, both the light and the _Shera_ were gone.

----------

Edea smiled as the door to her room in the infirmary slid open and Laguna ambled inside. He grinned. "Just wanted to check on you two ladies before I head home."

"We're doing just fine," Edea replied. "Both of us."

As she spoke, she looked down at the baby cradled in her arms. Her daughter blinked and stared back at her in rapt fascination. She was still small, but she was no longer confined to the incubator, no longer beyond her mother's reach. Her breathing was strong and regular, and she was as fully developed as any healthy newborn could be.

Laguna's eyes danced. "She's just so cute! The doc was tellin' me how much better she's been doing, and it's so cool to see her out and about like this, you know? I'm happy for ya, Edea. And for Sariese, too. I hope you'll come visit sometime."

"Of course we will," Edea agreed. "As long as you do the same."

"Sure! I love kiddies, you know?"

Edea laughed. She knew, alright. "Yes. Would you like to hold her?"

"Really?" Laguna was dumbfounded.

"Yes. Here, like this."

Carefully, Edea handed Sariese to him, showing him how to hold her so her head was up. Laguna took the baby gently and started lightly tickling her tummy. Sariese giggled a little but found more interest in his index finger, grabbing it with her hand and staring at it intently. Laguna's giddy mood seemed to evaporate for a moment as he held her, and his expression grew wistful. "I wish I could have been there when Squall was this age…"

"You did what had to be done, Laguna," Edea assured him. "No one blames you."

"I'm his father, Edea. I should have been there."

Edea laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're with him now. And he does care about you, even if he doesn't quite know how to say it."

"Neither do I," Laguna sighed. "We've never really talked about it, you know?"

"It will come in time," Edea assured him.

Laguna gently handed Sariese back to her. "I hope so."

----------

Sara blinked as the morning sun peeped in through the windows and spilled across the blue and white patterned comforter. A sound like a buzzsaw filled the air, and she turned in bed to see Zell lying on his back beside her, still out and snoring contentedly. Her mind still foggy with sleep, Sara rubbed her eyes and tried to wake up. Normally she didn't sleep late, but she and Zell were on vacation. With summer terms cancelled due to the recent crisis, everyone was being given leave until early fall and the new semester.

Naturally, Zell had wanted to go back to his hometown of Balamb for a while, and Sara didn't mind at all. They had left not long after she had said goodbye to Yuffie, Barret, and the rest of her friends from the other world. That had been just a few days ago. Balamb Garden was still stationed in Fisherman's Horizon along with the _Ragnarok,_ although Galbadia Garden and the _Illumina_ had left just before Sara and Zell did.

It felt good just to relax and wind down after the events of the past couple months. Sara had never been to Balamb before this, but the quaint seaside town felt more like home than Galbadia ever had. She could see why Zell loved it so much. He had taken her to meet his mother the first night they were here, and Sara had been surprised at how warmly she had been received despite the fact that Sara had chosen not to hide who she was.

"Oh, yes, I recognize the name," Ma Dincht had said, "but that doesn't mean anything. You're not your father, Sara. I can see that clear as day."

Sara had told them both that night about her decision to transfer to Balamb Garden, to be here, rather than ask Zell move to Galbadia with her. Zell had protested at first, saying he didn't mind, but Sara had explained that Galbadia was her past, not her future. Balamb was. And him. Zell had finally relented, although Sara knew he was more glad about it than he let on. And, she thought, so was Ma.

A particularly loud snore from Zell scattered Sara's thoughts like leaves in the wind and brought her fully awake. She drove an elbow into his ribs and he flinched, snorted, and turned on his side. His snoring diminished, although it didn't go away entirely. But it had lessened enough that Sara felt it wouldn't drive her mad. Zell was practically dead to the world when asleep, although Sara had to admit he had good reason to be worn out. They had made love almost all night until finally falling asleep at almost four in the morning.

Instead of staying at Zell's place, they were in a suite in the Balamb Hotel. Sara loved the view of the ocean from the balcony, and she slept like a baby in the soft king-sized bed she shared with Zell. There was a jacuzzi tub and a kitchenette, both of which they had used recently in more ways than one. And the walks down the beach at night were wonderfully romantic.

Sara turned, the sheets slipping down to reveal her bare, freckled shoulders, and shook Zell. At first he just ignored her, mumbling something and pulling the covers tighter to himself. But after Sara shook him a few more times and called his name, he finally blinked his eyes open and turned over to face her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm up…"

"Hey," Sara leaned close and kissed him. "Good morning, handsome."

"Mornin', beautiful. You just wake up?"

Sara slid her fingers along the side of his face, tracing the dark tattoo along the left side. "Yeah. I don't feel like getting out of bed yet, though. But I was thinking about going down to the beach later and working on my tan."

"Sounds good," Zell yawned. "Might go swimming, then."

"Hey, Zell…"

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"It's probably nothing, but… I was thinking the other day about Rinoa, and how she said she can't feel her power anymore. Neither can Elle. But… I can still feel mine. Maybe because it's new, I don't know. I guess I'm just a little worried."

"Well, why dontcha just talk to Matron about it when we get back?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, I think I will."

"She'll help ya," Zell assured her. "So don't worry about it, okay?"

"Okay. How about you? Are you alright? I mean, about Lily and all. It's only been a week since the memorial service for her and the others."

Zell took her hand in his. "I miss her, yeah. But I'll be okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I've got you, remember? That's all I need."

Sara kissed him again. "You say the sweetest things sometimes, you know that?"

In answer, Zell pulled her to him, returning her kiss passionately. Sara's heart raced as a wave of heat suddenly swirled through her body. She rolled on top of Zell and kissed him more deeply as he slid his hands through the long strands of her blond hair and down her back to explore the soft curves of her body.

She and Zell didn't get out of bed until almost noon that day.

----------

That same day in Fisherman's Horizon, Seifer sat with Quistis on one of the docks, his legs and hers dangling over the side. They each had a fishing pole, and although Quistis had expressed some doubts at first about whether she could do this very well, she had caught on more quickly than Seifer had expected. It was nice having her with him out here, enjoying one of his favorite hobbies together. Not that he'd ever caught much, but he still liked sitting out under the sun and watching the waves roll on by as his lure floated along in the water.

Suddenly there was a tug on Quistis' line. "Whoa! Seifer, help! I think I've got one!"

"Alright, Quis," Seifer reeled his own empty line in as fast as he could, tossed it on the dock, and stood up behind Quistis to help her pull hers in. "Here, like this."

He put his hands over hers and pulled on the fishing rod along with her, but the fish kept tugging hard on the line, more so than Seifer had thought. He couldn't see it, but judging from how much of a strain it was just to keep the fishing pole from flying out of his and Quistis' hands, the damn thing had to be big. Just his luck, as he hadn't caught so much as a minnow today. Raijin would laugh his head off when he found out.

"Damn, this sucker's strong," Seifer muttered.

"Not bad for my first day, don't you think?" Quistis teased.

Seifer smirked as he struggled to help her hold onto the pole. "You haven't caught it yet, Quis. Alright, together on three, got it? One, two, three!"

As he finished, Seifer gave a hard yank backwards on the fishing pole as Quistis did likewise. The line suddenly snapped as the fish pulled hard in the opposite direction at the exact same time, however, and Seifer and Quistis stumbled and fell on their backs on the dock, Quistis landing on top of Seifer as she did so. There was a loud splash as the fish jumped and swam away, Quistis' lure firmly in its mouth.

"Oh, blast it all," Quistis sighed, rolling off of him and sitting up.

Seifer chuckled as he sat up next to her. "Bit off a bit more than you could chew?"

"I didn't see you catching anything."

"Yeah, you got me there. I usually don't. I just like to try anyway."

Quistis laughed. "That does sound like you."

Seifer didn't get up right away, and neither did Quistis. It was nice, just sitting here with her. Even if she did have a way of knowing exactly how to deflate his ego whenever she wanted. Somehow, with her, it didn't really matter. Seifer shook his head, still wondering how he'd managed to fall for her of all people, and her for him.

"What is it?" Quistis wondered.

Seifer reached out and ran his hands through her rich blond hair, which spilled freely over her shoulders. He liked it better this way. "Nothin'. Just admiring the view."

"I'll bet," Quistis snickered.

Grinning, Seifer pulled her to him and kissed her. As usual, it was enough to drive everything else from his mind. For a while he and Quistis stayed like that, and Seifer supposed he could have sat here in a liplock with her all day and not worried about a thing. But he'd had enough of the docks for now, and not enough of her. Not by a long shot.

Seifer pulled away for a moment. "So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"You and me, Quis. Us. I don't know about you, but… I haven't felt this good in a hell of a long time. Heh, looks like you brought me a little discipline and I made you a little rowdy. That's a pretty fair trade, don't you think?"

Quistis chuckled. "Maybe. But why don't we see how it goes?"

"Sounds good to me," Seifer agreed.

"Now that you're back in the Garden, it won't be a problem for us to see each other. I'm glad Matron got you reinstated."

Seifer nodded. "Me, too. Hell, it's home to me. Always has been."

"Well, then, welcome home, Seifer."

Reaching up to stroke his face, Quistis pulled her back to him. Seifer obliged, returning her kiss and sliding his arms around her. He'd forgotten all about fishing, and the huge fish that had gotten away. It didn't matter. There would always be others. He and Quistis would find them eventually. When they weren't finding each other, that was.

That day, they went home early.

----------

Ellone had lingered on board the Garden with Vincent for another week after Cloud and the rest had returned to their own world, to their home. And while she enjoyed being able to visit with Squall and Rinoa and the rest, she too wanted to go home. Although she had only been away from Winhill for about two months, it seemed much longer. And she had come to a decision as well, one she shared now with Squall as she walked with him, Rinoa, and Vincent toward the western edge of town.

"I've been thinking about that job you offered me back before this all began," Ellone told Squall. "You know, about teaching the junior classmen?"

Squall nodded. "Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

"I'd like to do it, if the job's still available. Fall term starts in a month and a half, right? I could be ready by then. What do you say?"

"You're hired," Squall deadpanned.

Ellone laughed. "Hah! I see Rinoa's been helping you with your sense of humor! But I'm glad you agree. Still, I do have a request."

"What is it?"

"You still need a gunnery instructor, right? Irvine said he's still going through with the transfer to Trabia. He felt it was what Selphie would have wanted."

Squall shrugged. "Yeah, he was telling me about that. You have anyone in mind?"

"Well…" Ellone began.

"Oh," Squall sighed, looking over his shoulder at Vincent, who trailed a little behind them with Rinoa. "Him. Are you sure?"

Ellone nodded. "Yeah. We've talked about it. He wants to do it, actually."

"Really? Doesn't seem like him."

"Well, he's a little different now. And besides, do you really think you'll find anyone more qualified than him for the job?"

Squall smiled. "Touche. Alright, if he wants it, he can have it."

"Great!" Ellone hugged him. "We'll be back in time for your wedding, I promise. We'll stay afterward, since the term starts only two weeks after that."

"Sounds good. We'll see you then."

Ellone came to a stop as she and the others reached the town limits. Fisherman's Horizon was behind them, and the long, gray ribbon of the abandoned train bridge before them. A road ran along it on one side, wide enough to drive on. Vincent had wheeled the _Blackbird_ up here as he had walked with the others—Tifa had lent it to him and Ellone for a while—and now he got on and waited patiently for Ellone to join him. It was time.

"Take care, you guys," Ellone said, smiling at Squall and Rinoa.

She hugged first Squall and then Rinoa, and then patted Angelo's head affectionately—Rinoa had decided to take her neatly groomed collie along with her for a walk. The dog panted in the heat but was obviously enjoying herself. She whimpered a little as Ellone moved away, but a doggie treat handed to her from Rinoa quickly cured her of her melancholy.

Getting on the motorcycle behind Vincent, Ellone—dressed for the road in blue jeans and a white sleeveless top—waved to her friends and held on as the _Blackbird_ roared to life and sped off. Soon the town was falling away behind her and the road was long and empty ahead. Ellone didn't mind, though. She and Vincent weren't in any hurry. They were, after all, on vacation.

_Nemurenu yoru wo ikutsu kazuetara ore-tachi tadoritsuku darou  
Dore dake no inochi nakushita toki arasoi wa owaru no darou  
Rekishi no ue wo korogaru dake no sukuenai doukeshi-tachi  
Itsuka dareka ga itte ta you ni  
Kotae wa kaze no naka_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_I wonder how many sleepless nights you have to count, before you find your way  
After how many lives are lost, will the strife end?  
Clowns that cannot be saved, just tumbling atop of history  
Like someone said one day before  
The answer is in the wind_

She closed her eyes and let the wind whip through her short hair and ruffle the edges of her sleeveless blouse. Her hair hung loose and flew behind her as the motorcycle raced down the road like a streak of black and silver. The ocean, endless and blue, was a blur to her right, past the railing, and the empty train tracks slid past her on her left. Beyond them was the ocean again, stretching away to the south as far as she could see.

For hours they rode, trading off every so often. Sometimes Vincent would drive, and sometimes Ellone would. She loved it, loved being with him like this, just the two of them without a care in the world. She was alive, and she felt free. Every day was a gift, a treasure to be cherished. She had been given a second chance, and she meant to take it.

_Somuketa kao wo ikutsu utaretara kizukanu furi yameru no ka  
Dore hodo no kurushimi ni taetara egao wa jiyuu ni naru no ka  
Sabita kusari ni tsungareta mama mata shippo wo maku no nara  
Itsuka dareka ga itte ta you ni  
Kotae wa kaze no naka_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_How many times does your face have to be hit as you turned it away, before you stop pretending you don't notice?  
How much pain must you endure, before you smile freely?  
If you're going to accept defeat again, still bound by rusted chains  
Like someone said one day before  
The answer is in the wind_

As night fell, Ellone pulled the _Blackbird_ to a stop beside one of the old travel stations that had been set up along the bridge every dozen or so miles. Nobody used them now, but they were still mostly intact. They were dry and warm and well-stocked, although Ellone and Vincent had brought plenty of their own supplies with them as well.

Ellone stood outside at the railing for a while and just watched the ocean and listened to the rolling of the surf and the crying of the seagulls soaring overhead. After a moment, Vincent joined her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. They looked westward and watched as the sun slowly dipped beneath the horizon and cast glittering reflections upon the waves like a thousand sparkling diamonds.

_Furishiboru koe to nigirishimeru sono te de  
Unmei wa kitto kawaru toki wo matte iru  
Chippoke-na ai no sasayaka-na chikara de  
Kanashimi wa itsumo dakareru no wo matte iru_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_With your voice strained and your hands gripping tightly  
Waiting for the time when your destiny is sure to change  
With the faint power of a tiny love  
Always waiting for your sadness to be embraced_

When it was over and the sun had set, Ellone helped Vincent unload the bike and set up their things for the night. She and Vincent talked and ate and relaxed for a while, sitting comfortably next to each other and just enjoying each other's company. Then, as the evening wore on, Ellone leaned close to him and kissed him long and deep.

Vincent responded almost immediately, returning her kiss and holding her against him. Soon his hands were exploring her, and hers him, and before long they started undressing each other and tumbled into their blankets together. They made love until well after midnight, when they finally fell asleep exhausted in one another's arms.

_Uso no pazuru wo narabekaeteru aware-na petenshi-tachi  
Fukiyousa wo kiyou ni furumau oroka-na romanchisuto-tachi  
Rekishi ga nanimo kataranaku naru sonna hi ga kuru yokan ni  
Itsuka dareka ga itte ta you in  
Kotae wa kaze no naka_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Pitiful frauds working their puzzles of lies  
Foolish romanticists who gracefully entertain with clumsiness  
And the premonition of the coming of the day when history will tell you nothing  
Like someone said one day before  
The answer is in the wind_

So it went for the next three days. Ellone and Vincent would drive from early in the morning until dusk, stopping now and again to eat and rest. At night they would stay at another of the old travel stations and listen to the waves rolling endlessly in the ocean outside. Ellone found it wonderfully soothing as she lay with Vincent together in the midst of their passion.

It was early on the fourth day that the grassy hills of southern Galbadia finally came into view ahead of them, and by the time the first stars began to come out, the _Blackbird_ was racing off the old train bridge and onto the winding, paved road that ran through the region. Ellone's heart quickened. They were almost there.

_Furishiboru koe to nigirishimeru sono te de  
Unmei wa kitto kawaru toki wo matte iru  
Chippoke-na ai no sasayaka-na chikara de  
Kanashimi wa itsumo dakareru no wo matte iru_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_With your voice strained and your hands gripping tightly  
Waiting for the time when your destiny is sure to change  
With the faint power of a tiny love  
Always waiting for your sadness to be embraced_

It took another two days, during which time they camped out under the stars at night. There were no more travel stations, but Ellone didn't mind. This road didn't get much use anymore, and it felt as though she and Vincent were the only people in the world. She liked that feeling, and the sound of the wind whispering through the tall grass.

Finally, about a week after they had left Fisherman's Horizon, Ellone and Vincent reached their destination. It was just starting to get dark as Vincent brought the _Blackbird_ to a stop for a moment on a low ridge overlooking the little town of Winhill. Ellone hadn't realized until then just how much she had missed the place. But she had. As the stars began to come out one by one, lights shone in the windows, a warm and welcoming yellow glow that reached out to the two weary travelers still on the road. Ellone could see her own small house, not so far away, empty for so long. But not now. Not anymore.

Ellone looked at Vincent and smiled. "We're home."

_fin _


End file.
